


A Man for All Seasons

by Soonerwxgirl



Category: Reign (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-12
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-01-01 07:34:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 61,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1042108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soonerwxgirl/pseuds/Soonerwxgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After one year of marriage, Francis' eye begins to wander. Devastated, Mary seeks comfort in arms that have been close by the whole time. Mary/Francis and Mary/Sebastian</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More.

Mary knew things were changing between her and Francis. He rarely visited her chambers at night anymore. Apparently, he was seeking solace elsewhere. Even their daytime visits were growing shorter as well, as his princely duties were being shoved to the forefront.

It did not help that the eyes of everyone around the court were constantly on her waist, anxiously awaiting the announcement of a possible future royal heir. She knew Francis was worried about children. It had already been a year with no luck. Maybe something is wrong with me? Mary wondered. If Francis had a bastard, there were ways to make them a legitimate heir. England had already proved that issue. But it pained Mary to think about it. About Francis loving a child that was not their's.

Maybe it would be best in the end. Mary knew, deep down, he meant no disrespect to her. He loved her, and valued her person and her opinion. He was merely exercising his right as the Dauphin to, as the British might say, "eat the trough dry." An unfortunate right exercised by many men at court, but obviously not a right for a married princess. _He may be growing a garden for all I know_ , Mary thought.

At least it was a 'right' openly discussed among the women of the court. Thanks to the gossiping lips and eyes of her ladies-in-waiting, Mary knew all the blackest of the black personal details of the French court. She knew the King never shared the Queen's bed anymore. She knew the Queen was constantly in the dungeon, presumably with Nostradamus, but no one knew for sure why. She knew the names of Francis' mistresses, but she kept their other secrets filed away for potential use. She also knew, much to her dismay and worry, that her dear half brother-in-law, Sebastian, would rather be out riding, than courting one of the many women who constantly doted at the feet of the King's bastard-born son.

In one aspect, maybe that is why she sought out Sebastian in the first place. Someone who would not mind her venting about Francis. Then again, being his brother, venting to him might be the worst decision ever.

* * *

Breakfast was just ending in the great hall. Francis had already left for the Council meeting with his father, leaving Mary alone, as usual. Glancing around the hall, Mary quickly found the blue eyes she sought. With a small hand gesture, she beckoned Sebastian over to her table.

"You summoned, Your Grace?" The words falling teasingly off his tongue. Mary smiled. He was cheeky.

"Yes, Sebastian. I would like to go riding today." A look of confusion crossed his face, and worry crossed Mary's. "You do ride often, do you not? Or maybe I was misinformed..." She stammered a bit at the last part, starting to feel embarrassed by her forwardness.

"No, I do, Your Grace. I was just trying to understand whether you wanted me to do a stable boys dirty work and ready your horse, or whether you wanted to accompany me on a ride?" Mary laughed, an easiness re-entering her mind.

"Oh the latter, I can assure you." Sebastian nodded and stood, extending his elbow in offering to Mary. Her hand slipped easily around his arm, and she followed him gracefully out of the hall.

"Shall we?"

* * *

"Is not the countryside beautiful, Sebastian?" There was an awe in Mary's voice and she turned and surveyed the land before her. Sebastian knew exactly what she meant, but he also thought the countryside held no beauty when compared to Mary.

It was an honor for her to single him out for companionship. He knew he had his brother to thank, since he knew Francis was slipping into his old, flirtatious self. Mary deserved better than to be shoved aside, of that Sebastian was sure.

"It is, your Grace."

"Please, how often must I tell you? When we are together like this, please call me Mary. 'Your Grace' sounds...so...matriarchal." Sebastian chuckled.

"Only if you will call me 'Bash', as so many do."

"No, Sebastian, I think not. I rather like your full name. It is very regal." He smirked at her. He was anything but regal. "Besides, I think I will reserve 'Bash' for a more appropriate time." At this acknowledgment, Sebastian was puzzled.

"And what time would that be, Mary?"

"Honestly, I do not know. But I will." Her voice was softer with these words. Sebastian let himself easily dream of a very intimate way that voice might say his name.

"Sebastian?" Mary started, turning around to face him. She lovingly stroked the muzzle of her horse, trying to form the appropriate sentence in her mind. "What have I done to displease Francis?" Sebastian did not like the direction this conversation was heading. He knew Mary would eventually bring up her troubles with his brother, and he wanted no part of their intimate quarrels.

"Nothing, Mary. He is a man. We are men. Francis is merely doing what most other men at court do. So he has a mistress? Or two or three. That does not mean he is displeased with you." Sebastian realized how awful those words sounded after he said them.

"Does it not? Unlike many political marriages, I actually love Francis, and he loves me. I thought our marriage would be different." Mary straightened her back, and turned a penetrating stare on Sebastian. "I am sorry for putting you in the middle of my troubles. That was impolite and improper. But tell me, Sebastian, if you loved a woman dearly, married her even, would you tire of her so quickly?"

"To be honest, that kind of love is few and far between. I do not think I will ever be granted that luxury."

"But would you ever leave her this way? Alone and confused?" Mary prodded.

"Of course not, Mary. But my opinion does not matter." Sebastian turned around, hoping to put an end to the conversation.

"It does matter, Sebastian. Why would it not matter?" Sebastian sighed. _Please do not make me tell you_ , he thought.

"It is getting late. We should head back to the castle." And without so much as a look back towards Mary, he mounted his horse and started back.

* * *

While the weather was decent, Mary and Sebastian took daily rides around the castle grounds. Occasionally, Greer or Lola would join them, but normally they were alone. Mary never discussed her problems with Francis again, which Sebastian was exceedingly glad of. She talked about Francis, and other things that were going on, but never their intimate relationship. Sebastian let her do most of the talking, reveling in the sound of her voice. Several times, he found he had no recollection of what she actually said, as he was simply enjoying the sweet sound.

"Did you hear me, Sebastian?" Mary asked, pulling her horse to a stop next to his.

"Um, sorry, what did you say?" Sebastian blinked out of his trance, hoping she was not angered. Mary rolled her eyes.

"I said we should probably be heading back towards the castle. I need to get ready for the festival tonight."

"Oh, right, the festival."

"Is there anyone you plan on dancing with tonight?" Mary's eyes were alight, obvious to Sebastian that she was digging around for a little bit of gossip.

"Unless I dance with you, I will not be dancing at all." He said matter-of-factly.

"Seriously, Sebastian." Mary huffed, giving him a glare that was bordering on humorous.

"I am serious, Mary. There is no one I would dance with besides you." Mary could tell by the look on Sebastian's face that he was being completely honest. Mary's stomach begin to flutter uneasily.

"And why is that, Sebastian?" Her voice lacked the humor it previously displayed, and she had a hard time fighting the tremor in her voice. He bowed his head for a moment, clearly trying to organize his thoughts.

"I hoped I would not have to explain it to you, Mary." He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "I care for you. Deeply. There is no one else I would rather dance with, or be with, than you."

"Oh, Sebastian ..."

"I know I have no right to speak to you like this because you are married to my brother, and will be my Queen one day. But you asked, and I will not deny you anything." The fluttering returned to Mary's stomach as he spoke. She had not heard such sincere devotion spoken to her in a long time. Most likely since she first arrived, and was beginning to know Francis again.

"You deserve someone who can love you the way you should be loved." Mary whispered. "I cannot. Even if I loved you, I cannot give you that."

"Oh believe me, I know." He sighed. "That is why I treasure these moments with you. Because for a split second, I can pretend you can."

Mary smiled sadly at him. She wished she could pretend with him too. It would be nice to feel loved and adored again. A long time ago, Mary would have said their were no other arms she would prefer around her than Francis'. But now? She could not answer that question. She reached out a hand toward Sebastian, and grasped his outreached one firmly.

"I do love you, Sebastian. You are a wonderful brother, and friend." She squeezed his hand gently.

"I am a horrible brother."

Mary felt her hand raise, and soft lips brush against her knuckles. She glanced and Sebastian, his emotional struggle clearly written on his face. He gently released her hand, grabbing the reigns of his horse.

"Best we get back before I say anything else I might regret."

"Of course. We do not want to be late." Mary replied softly, looking anywhere but at him.

"Promise to save me one dance, Mary, that is all I ask."

"I will save you two, if you promise that we will continue to be good friends."

He nodded. He did not want to make that promise, for he hoped, just maybe, she might see him as more than friend in the future. Even thinking such a thought was dangerous, and he knew he needed to keep his emotions in check. But when he looked at Mary, what emotions he tried to suppress would cut him open like a sword. Gazing back at Mary, she was watching him anxiously.

"Good friends." He mumbled, turning again before he could see her reaction. "Let us head back."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the positive reviews! I hope the following chapters don't let you down!
> 
> Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More.
> 
> Chapter 2 Music: Drumming Song by Florence + The Machine
> 
> There's a drumming noise inside my head / That starts when you're around  
> I swear that you could hear it / It makes such an all mighty sound
> 
> Louder than sirens / Louder than bells  
> Sweeter than heaven / And hotter than hell
> 
> As I move my feet towards your body / I can hear this beat it fills my head up  
> And gets louder and louder / It fills my head up and gets louder and louder

Michaelmas was one of Mary's favorite times of celebration. The harvest was over and Autumn was arriving. Everyone was in generally good spirits. Once they had arrived back at the castle, Mary bid goodbye to Sebastian, reminding him that she would save him two dances. By the time she arrived at her chamber, her ladies were already bustling about. Fabrics in various hues of orange, pink, yellow, purple, green, white and brown appeared to be floating across her room. Not only were they prepared for the Michaelmas celebration and feast, but Mary and her ladies had spent several late nights choreographing a special dance just for the Michaelmas celebration. They would perform at the end of the feast in the Great Hall.

"Mary! Where have you been? It is nearly time!" Aylee exclaimed, flitting around the room like a tiny hummingbird.

"I was out riding. I will be ready in plenty of time." Mary motioned for Kenna to start unlacing her riding dress. Kenna's fingers quickly worked the laces of the dress, and she helped Mary step out of the stiff material. Mary was greatly looking forward to the lightweight ethereal green and blue dress she would wear as part of their special dance. Kenna brought the new dress in front of Mary, steadying her as she stepped into the waist, pulling the thin straps over her shoulders. Once again, Kenna's fingers worked the laces of Mary's dress. Stopping halfway, Kenna whispered in Mary's ear, "Were you out riding with Sebastian again?"

"Yes, and what of it?" Mary realized her defensive tone would only stir the pot with Kenna.

"You would not want anyone to get the wrong idea, Mary." She said softly, resuming the threading of the silky laces.

"There is nothing untoward going on between us." Mary quickly replied.

"I do not doubt that, Mary. But let me tell you one thing, not one of us would think badly of you if something did happen. You deserve to be happy, and you have been happier since spending time with Bash." Kenna had finished the laces of Mary's dress several minutes previously, but she stayed close to whisper these words in Mary's ears.

The temperature in the room felt increasingly warm to Mary, and she slipped away from Kenna to sit down. What Kenna suggested was treasonous. And yet, Mary felt a small thrill at the possibility. Especially after Sebastian's emotional confession earlier.

"Kenna, please do not mention your suggestion ever again." Mary tried to sound Queenly, and firm, stressing that this was not a frivolous issue to be mentioned lightly.

"Of course, Your Grace." She gave a small curtesy, a bit mockingly. "But if you change your mind, I can tell you how to be discreet."

"Because you and King Henry are epitome of discreetness." Kenna frowned, and shrugged her shoulders.

"Let us fix that wind-blown hair of yours." Mary let the issue drop, and turned around so Kenna and Lola could begin twisting her hair into ringlets.

* * *

Mary, Kenna, Aylee, Lola, and Greer enjoyed their portion of the Michaelmas feast in Mary's chambers. They were remaining hidden, so as not to give away their identities. While dancing, each had gold masks they would wear to cover their face, and they accented their hair with multiple flowers and ribbons.

Mary palmed the silky fabric of her dress, enjoying the way the layers of silk and sheer cascaded the length of her body. Mary was representing Mother Nature. The blues and greens of her dress were indicative of the earth and sky. She hoped the court would enjoy their dance, and especially hoped Francis might take notice. Or Sebastian. Or anyone.

"Your Grace?" The head court musician stood cautiously in the doorway. "Are you ready?"

"Thank you, yes. Ladies?" Mary looked around at their eager faces and smiled. "Let us put on a celebration they will never forget." Each girl nodded, giggling and grasping each others hand.

They followed the musician down the hall, stopping before the archway entrance to the Great Hall. Three resounding knocks echoed across the room, as their escort proceeded to rein in everyone's attention.

"Hear ye, hear ye. Mother Nature, and her Season Fairies, would like to celebrate this Michaelmas with a special dance in your honor." With his announcement, he scurried over to the band of musicians seated in the corner of the hall. Mary and her ladies glided into the center of the hall. Mary noticed the hall had gone silent, with only a few gasps of exclamation at the beauty of their dresses. Mary bent her head, her arms bending to form a slight oval. Her ladies sat on their knees around her, arms bent as if in prayer.

A soft drumbeat started, and Mary went into motion. Raising her arms, she easily glided around her ladies. A collective gasp and applause filtered through the hall when she twirled, the layered skirts of her dress danced tantalizingly in the candlelight. Stepping back into the circle, Mary knelt before Lola, pretending to raise her up. Dressed in all white, Lola looked to be the embodiment of a Winter fairy. As she floated across the room, Mary realized how becoming Lola appeared in her white dress, as it hugged her curvier figure. Mary also noticed a few male eyes following her as she spun lightly. As Lola approached the circle again, the added surprise of snowflakes, fell from the rafters. Mary had handsomely paid a local farmer for a small bit of cotton, and after painstakingly reducing it to small pieces, it looked very much like snow.

And the court loved it. Mary repeated the dance with Aylee, raising her from the circle. Aylee represented Spring, and shone in hues of pinks and golds. She took an opposite path around the hall than Lola, and many appreciative gazes followed her dance steps. As she returned toward the circle, flower petals replaced the cotton snowflakes floating from the ceiling.

Kenna danced next, representing the vibrancy of Summer. Mary thought she was the perfect expression of Summer, with her joyous demeanor and vibrant attitude. Though the masks were supposed to hide their faces, hoping to promote an air of mystery, Mary was sure King Henry knew it was Kenna dancing. He immediately sat taller in his seat, swaying ever so slightly as she twirled, yellow and orange hues swaying around her legs.

Greer was last since this was a Michaelmas celebration, as she represented Autumn. Her dress of red and brown mimicked the fire in the hearths around the hall. The light from the fire glistened in her eyes as she spun around, stopping to gently tap unsuspecting court members on their shoulders. She finished her part, returning to the circle as various Autumn leaves began to fall.

Mary joined the rest of them, finishing the dance with a flurry of steps and twirls, all in time with her ladies. When the music stopped, and their dresses finished swaying around their hips, the hall erupted. Many applauded loudly, even standing to their feet to do so. Even rough Queen Catherine was standing with a smile on her face as she clapped.

Mary's heart sank as she looked expectantly at Francis. He was applauding with the rest of court, but he was engaged in conversation with the young lady next to him. Mary knew her name to be Alice, and she was ashamed to see her obvious flirtation, as she held herself slightly forward, arms pressed in such a way to enhance his viewing of her chest.

Tears threatened to spill from Mary's eyes, and with the continuous applause, she did not want to fall apart. Glancing past King Henry on his right, she found Sebastian, next to his mother, Diane de Poitiers. He was laughing heartily with his mother, who looked extremely pleased with the girls' performance.

"Come now, young nymphs!" Cried King Henry. "As is tradition in these sorts of displays, you must reveal your true identities after a dance with a gentleman of choice. Please, make your choices and then honor us with your revelations! Maestro, the galliard when ready!"

"As you wish, Your Majesty. Winter, please make your choice!" Mary nodded toward Lola, who chose a young man seated near the back. Mary had seen Lola speaking with him at previously gatherings.

"Spring?" Aylee turned around chose the young man seated behind her, someone who, like Lola's choice, Mary had seen before, but did not know his name.

"Summer, please make your choice." Kenna teasingly twirled around the room, before stopping in front of King Henry. _Yes, she knows all about discreetness_ , Mary thought.

"Autumn?" Greer disappeared to the very back of the hall, coming back with a very flustered looking Leith, whom Mary had met before.

"I believe it is now your choice, Mother Nature." King Henry gestured around. All eyes fell on Mary. She knew the most appropriate person to choose was Francis. She glanced at him again, noting she was still not paying a bit of attention to her or the ongoing celebration. With that, Mary decided not to chose Francis. Instead, she started her small dance, twirling around the center of the hall.

Gracefully stopping, Mary knelt on one knee in front of Sebastian, spreading her arms wide and bending her head.

"You would do me a great honor, Sir, to share this dance with me."

All eyes focused on Mary, including now those of Francis and Alice. Sebastian stood from his seat, and bowed to Mary in return.

"Mother Nature grants me a great honor."

Sebastian joined Mary as they lined up for the dance that would now start the Michaelmas celebration. As the beginning notes began to play, he held his hand out the Mary, who grasped it firmly.

"Does this count as one of the two dances?" Sebastian whispered, as they started with the familiar steps.

"You, sir, are not supposed to know my identify." Mary said in mock frustration.

"I would know you anywhere, mask or not." He replied softly. Mary squeezed his hand gently and smiled.

"Then no, this does not count."

Mary let go of her earlier anger, frustration, and sadness over Francis. Smiling up at Sebastian, who smiled heartily back, Mary thought, _this will be a wonderful celebration after all_.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all are amazing! I am thrilled you are enjoying the story so far! I am definitely enjoying writing it. 
> 
> Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More.
> 
> Chapter 3 Music: Scarborough Fair/Canticle by Simon and Garfunkel
> 
> Are you going to Scarborough Fair? / Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme  
> Remember me to one who lives there / She once was a true love of mine
> 
> Tell her to make me a cambric shirt  
> \- On the side of a hill in the deep forest green  
> Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme  
> \- Tracing of sparrow on snow crested ground  
> Without no seams nor needle work  
> \- Blankets and bedclothes the child of the mountain  
> Then she'll be a true love of mine  
> \- Sleeps unaware of the clarion call

Mary was the only dancer yet to be revealed. At this point, she knew the revelation of her identity would not be a surprise to most of the court. However, she still felt the rush of adrenaline ripple through her as the moment arrived.  
  
"Come Sebastian, my son, and enlighten us to Mother Nature's true identity." King Henry decreed boisterously.  
  
The crowd went silent as Sebastian nodded to his father. He turned to face Mary. As he stepped towards her, he left decidedly little space between their bodies. He heard Mary's intake of breath as his arms reached around her head to untie the ribbon holding her gold mask in place. Though they had been in each other's arms dancing just moments before, this situation felt much more intimate to Mary. She was staring straight into Sebastian's chest, trying to avoid a blush that would creep up her cheeks should she look at his face.  
  
"You look beautiful, by the way. An image of an angel come to earth." He whispered in her ear, and Mary shivered involuntarily. Being this close to her brother-in-law elicited a reaction within her she was not expecting, and because all eyes were currently on her, a reaction with which she was not overly pleased.  
  
"So you have said...several times." Mary whispered. "Do not forget all eyes are upon us now." Mary felt the weight of the mask lift from her face, and she immediately formed a welcoming smile.  
  
"There are eyes always on us." Sebastian whispered, before his voice, and his person, were swallowed by the applause of the Court. Bodies were pressing unpleasantly close to Mary to offer their congratulations on her performance. Choruses of 'bravo, Your Grace' and 'splendid, truly splendid' echoed around the hall.  
  
"Risky move, Mary." Kenna whispered in Mary's ear, pulling her away from the adoring crowd. "I am proud of you."  
  
"Proud of me for shunning my husband for his brother?" Mary glared at Kenna. "I am rather ashamed of my actions, actually. It was rather childish."  
  
"Oh really? Why do I find that hard to believe, Mary? You looked radiantly happy while dancing with him." These words momentarily stopped Mary. Had she been happy? Definitely, she thought. Did she enjoy the dance with her brother-in-law? More than I should. She mentally scolded herself.  
  
"Would Your Grace like some wine?" A young attendant bowed, precariously handling a small tray of wine glasses.  
  
"Thank you, yes." Mary retrieved a glass before the flustered attendant had a chance to hand it to her. She immediately turned away from the crowd, downing the contents of the glass quickly. She hoped the wine would settle her nerves.  
  
"Can I claim another dance, Your Grace?" His now familiar voice sounded from behind her, and she unwillingly jumped in response.  
  
"Sebastian, you startled me." The combined thrill and uneasiness returned to her stomach.  
  
"So I noticed. Are you feeling well?" He reached to touch her arm, and though she wanted to put some distance between them, her feet would not move away.  
  
"I am fine, thank you." She whispered, trying not to make it evident how she was flustered. "Honestly, I think I would like to sit down ..."  
  
"You have had your dance, _brother_." The way he said 'brother' made Mary's skin crawl as Francis seemingly appeared out of nowhere. "It is time _my wife_ honors her _husband_ with a dance." Again, the way Francis placed emphasis on 'my wife' and 'husband' concerned Mary greatly. It was not with as much vehemence as he said 'brother', but it was not spoken out of kindness either.  
  
Refusing to look at the reaction on Sebastian's face, Mary nodded at Francis, and took his outstretched hand as he pulled her towards the middle of the room. They joined the dance hastily, and Mary let out a squeak as Francis pulled her roughly against him.  
  
"What, would you prefer different arms around you?" Francis held a tight, uncomfortable grip on her waist and Mary winced.  
  
"Of course not, Francis, but that actually hurts."  
  
"Not as much as you hurt me this evening." Francis had quit dancing and pulled Mary over to the entrance of the Great Hall. Anxiety was beginning to build within Mary, as Francis' behavior made her frightened.  
  
"Now Francis, let us talk." He turned his glare on her and Mary took a step back. "No, you are not leaving." Grabbing Mary's arm, Francis pulled her out of the Great Hall and into the stone corridor. Mary tried not to trip on her dress as she hastily followed her husband down the hall. He finally stopped near the end of the corridor, a definitive ways from the Great Hall.  
  
"How dare you dismiss me as such!" Cried Francis, releasing her arm and pacing in front of Mary, his hands brushing continually through his hair.  
  
"Dismiss you? You were too busy being flirtatious to even notice me. I see nothing wrong with my behavior." Mary's voice shook as she spoke, for the look of anger across Francis' face terrified her.  
  
"I love you, Mary, but you can try a man's soul."  
  
"For speaking of love, you have a strange way of showing your devotion." Mary whispered, her hand wrapping protectively around her waist, remembering the uncomfortably tight grip he had just held there.  
  
"As do you." He continued pacing in front of Mary. She wanted to disappear as she tried to hug the wall behind her back. This was a very uncomfortable, and slightly frightening, situation for Mary. She was not accustomed to such outbursts from Francis, at least not directed towards her person.  
  
"You look like a scared puppy, Mary. Did you actually think I would cause you physical harm?" Gone was the anger from his voice, replaced by a sort of sadness.  
  
"I do not know, Francis. You have been distant from me lately." Mary replied hesitantly. "I feel like you are a different person."  
  
An awkward silence passed between Francis and Mary. Mary watched as various emotions passed across his face: sadness, guilt, and hurt.  
  
"Let us dance. Come Mary." Francis held out his hand in a peaceful offering.  
  
"I think not. I am tired, and would like to retire for the evening." Mary briefly bowed in parting, turning to walk back towards her chambers.  
  
"You were not too tried to dance with my brother." The anger returned to Francis' voice menacingly, glaring at Mary's retreating figure.  
  
"Your brother does not berate me as you have just done. Until you chose to treat me more respectfully, I have no intention of dancing anymore with you. Now please, excuse me."  
  
"You. Will. Dance." Francis commanded menacingly, walking towards her rapidly and roughly grabbing her arm.  
  
"Ah, Francis, there you are!" King Henry exclaimed. "And Mary. Let me tell you what a wonderful performance from you and ladies. You are to be commended!" Mary gently tugged her arm away from her husband, and briefly curtseyed to King Henry.  
  
"Thank you, Your Majesty. We enjoyed performing for this Michaelmas celebration."  
  
"Good, good. Now, Francis, come with me. We have matters to discuss." Francis followed his father, not even sparing a glance back towards Mary.  
  
A breath escaped Mary's lips she did not even know she was holding. Mary's feet quickly carried her to her chambers without hesitation. As soon as she was inside, she collapsed on the floor, the tears fell freely down her face. _What has happened to my Francis_? Mary thought sadly. She fondly remembered times when his hands touched with such sweetness and such passion, and not harshly. She remembered when words whispered softly in her ear sent chills of pleasure down her spine, and not fear. She remembered when she happily spent hours of joy dancing with Francis, and not dancing out of force.  
  
"Mary, are you alright?" Blue eyes stared down at Mary from the small opening in her chamber doors. Through bleary eyes of her own, Mary found Sebastian's face to be a welcome sight. She opened the door enough to let Sebastian take a few steps in her chambers. She let the door stay open, propriety weighing heavily on her mind after her discussion with Francis.  
  
"Thank you, Sebastian, but I have been better." Mary wiped her tear stained cheeks with the palm of her hand. A warm touch encased her hand, holding it against her cheek.  
  
"Did he hurt you?" The words were barely more than a whisper, but Mary understood his implication.  
  
"Only his words, nothing more." She tried to stand tall, and hold her head high, but she could not hold the tears at bay.  
  
"Oh, my dearest Mary." She felt his arms envelop her, holding her tightly against his chest as she wept. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers grasping at the back of his neck. His lips moved lightly against her hair. 'Beautiful', 'love', 'wishing', 'strong', and lastly 'mine' were the only words Mary could barely hear him speak, though others were also spoken.  
  
"Your door is still open, Mary. I best be going for the evening." She nodded reluctantly, stepping away from the warmth of his arms. "I think the fall chill has arrived. It might be better to restrict our outings to the gardens. Would you care to walk there tomorrow?"  
  
"Yes, most excitedly." Mary replied, enjoying the smile that lit up his face.  
  
"Until tomorrow, then." He bowed slightly at the waist, turning to take his leave. Mary did not know what came over her, but she heard herself utter his name. He stopped, gazing expectantly at her. Her feet moved of her own accord, as did her hands which cupped his face, and her lips, which pressed against his ever so gently.  
  
It was over almost before it began, but it did not matter. Sebastian's heart soared. He gently raised his hand to caress her cheek.  
  
"Goodnight, my dear sweet Mary." He whispered, smilingly down out her lovely face.  
  
"Goodnight, Sebastian. Until tomorrow." Mary assured him gently.  
  
And after bidding Sebastian goodnight, Mary tumbled easily into bed and fell fast asleep.

* * *

Mary slept so soundly that she never heard Kenna sleepily announce Francis' entrance to her chambers. She never heard his whispered, "I am so sorry for hurting you tonight, Mary. I hope you can forgive me."  
  
She never saw his saddened face as he left the room.

* * *

Queen Catherine considered the events of the Michaelmas celebration the previous evening with much interest. During the celebration, her eyes continually flitted between Francis, Mary, and the bastard Sebastian. She knew Sebastian's influence over Mary had started to strengthen, and though she hated to admit it, Francis needed Mary, and France needed Scotland. A shiver of disgust went through her as she thought about them.  
  
"What a tangled web we weave." She whispered.  
  
She approached the now familiar door without hesitation. She knocked, and waited for his appearance.  
  
"Yes, Your Majesty?" Nostradamus asked as Queen Catherine entered his workroom.  
  
"I am in need of a potion, Nostradamus." She said firmly, inspecting several of the contents of the bottles that lined his walls.  
  
"What kind of potion?"  
  
"I will tell you in a minute. First, I want your opinion." She turned around to face him, and he eyed her warily.  
  
"Opinion on what?"  
  
"Which lady at court do you think most resembles our lovely lady Mary?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: For Chapter 4 in particular, some inspiration was drawn from one of my favorite books, Queen of Camelot by Nancy McKenzie (highly recommend!). I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More.
> 
> Chapter 4 Music: Black is the Colour by Marcy D'Arcy and the Prodigal Sons [Note: This song is covered by many artists, and with many small lyrical changes. This happens to be my favorite version.]
> 
> Black is the colour of my true love's hair / His lips are like some roses fair
> 
> He's the sweetest smile and the gentlest of hands / I love the ground whereon he stands
> 
> I love my love and this he knows / I love the ground whereon he goes
> 
> I hope the day will surely come / When he and I will be as one

Mary enjoyed their leisurely walks through the castle garden. Sebastian had been right. There was a distinct crisp chill to the air, definitely signaling the arrival of fall. In a few weeks time, winter would be upon them. Though Mary thought the winter season one of the most beautiful times of the year, she dreaded its arrival this year. Winter would signify a change in her relationship with Sebastian. It would be generally too cold to be outside for any quality length of time, and thus they would need to remain indoors. With Francis. With King Henry. With Queen Catherine. And with the entire prying eyes of the court.

To some extent, Sebastian symbolized freedom to Mary. She could be herself with him, and speak what was on her mind. Though her court-upbringing would never completely disappear, she could leave its restrictions when around him. Even with Francis, she could never completely be herself. She wanted to spend her hours reading, writing, having thoughtful, intelligent conversations, and, every now and then, dancing. Francis, on the other hand, preferred Mary read to him so he would fall asleep.

With a bark and a jump, Mary's beloved retriever took off across the gardens. Sebastian rolled his eyes at Mary, a simple gesture which spoke volumes. _I will go fetch him,_ it said. Mary chose a concrete bench in front of the tall, winding strip of shrubbery that outlined the inner wall of the garden. She delighted in watching Sebastian haphazardly chase the joyful pup. When he disappeared from sight, Mary decided to enjoy a few more lines of her book before her dog dragged Sebastian back.

"So, Mr. Machiavelli. What brilliant political ideals will you share with me today?" Mary whispered as she turned to the last spot she read. "Oh yes, chapter fifteen. The reputation of a prince."

* * *

Queen Catherine watched their heads disappear once they entered the sanctuary of the garden walls. The elixir she requested from Nostradamus could not be ready so enough.

She had presented her request to Nostradamus in writing over a week previously. He had glanced over the paper, grabbing his quill to make a few additional notes. He would need licorice root, ground oysters, a newer item called cocoa, and a couple of other sundries.

"How long will the potion take to prepare?" The Queen asked, nervously clasping and unclasping her hands. Her plan needed to come together quickly, before anything else got out of hand.

"Actually, this is an elixir. Using the word potion gives me an association with witchcraft of which I am not fond."

"Fine, elixir then. When will it be ready?"

"A few weeks, maybe a month at most to make it perfect." He hesitated before continuing, "Is this for you, Your Majesty?"

"Good Heavens, no!" Catherine chuckled, "I am too old for this kind of reckless mess."

"Then it is for Lady Mary, is it not"

Although Catherine confided in Nostradamus often, she wanted to keep the details of this particular scheme to herself.

"No matter who it is for, I must warn you. The second elixir you requested greatly depends on timing to work properly. Even then, it is not a guarantee."

"I understand. I am hoping for a bit of divine intervention in any case."

"You are trying to play God by aiding in creating a life. I am not sure He would appreciate your intervention. Or your intention."

"Hmph." Catherine sighed taking her leave of her trusted adviser. "I will leave you to your work."

* * *

Kenna paused before entering the Queen's waiting room. A personal request to visit with the Queen was definitely not expected, especially considering her ongoing personal relationship with King Henry.

"Ah, Kenna, you are most welcome." Catherine cheerily stated as Kenna was escorted into the Queen's room. Numerous ladies-in-waiting to the Queen eagerly watched Kenna as she entered, taking stock of her person.

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Kenna returned the Queen's cheery smile, albeit a bit forced.

"Well, you probably wondered why I asked you to visit. It is simple really. I understand you have quite a pretty voice. I know my husband agrees." A few chuckles resounded around the room from the ladies. Kenna nodded. She had been known as quite the song-mistress back in Scotland. "Good, good. I am planning a lovely evening for our immediate royal family, and I would love for you to grace us with a few songs. I have chosen a couple, some with your dear Scottish heritage in mind."

Catherine handed over a few pieces of paper. Kenna scanned the music. She knew every song, but her eyes rose anyway at the last song in the pile.

"Your Majesty, this last song is quite...intimate. Are you sure you want me to perform this piece?"

"Most assuredly." The Queen smiled. Kenna detected a strange undertone to the Queen's request. But then again, most everyone thought Catherine was a little different. "Have these ready in two weeks. I am looking forward to your performance." And with a flick of her hand, Kenna was dismissed.

* * *

A light snowfall fell earlier than expected. Mary watched as their feet made seemingly small tracks in the pristine, newly fallen snow. The temperatures were such that the snow would likely melt by mid-afternoon, and Mary wanted to enjoy it's beauty.

"What is the Queen planning?" Mary asked him, enjoying the rosiness of his cheeks and nose brought on my the brisk wind.

"The little family evening thing? I do not know." Sebastian shrugged, noting Mary's slight shiver as the wind gusted again. He stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. It was times like this Sebastian was terribly grateful the tall shrubs in the garden hid them from view. He rested his chin on her shoulder, teasingly nudging her ear with the tip of his nose.

"Sebastian! Your nose is like ice." Mary exclaimed, giggling and sinking back into his arms. "But seriously, I am worried for tomorrow night. I feel like I might be walking into a trap. She did include you, did she not?"

"Reluctantly, yes. Maybe she is just trying to be nice for once?" Mary laughed immediately. "Point taken. Well, let us hope there is nothing up that wickedly evil sleeve of hers."

"Yes," Mary whispered. "Let us hope so."

* * *

Lola worked feverishly to straighten Mary's dress for the evening's party. The blue's and gold's would reflect the firelight majestically. The Queen had specially requested a set of dresses for Mary and her ladies. She had yet to see her own gown, but if it was half as pretty as Mary's, it would be beautiful.

"Ah, Lola, I am glad to have caught you." Lola jumped, spinning to come face to face with the Queen. She hastily dropped into a curtsey, wobbling unsteadily as she did.

"Your Majesty, how can I be of service?"

"I do not require your service. I came to say I am honored Mary's ladies will be joining our gathering this evening." The Queen paused, before she took a few additional steps toward Lola. "I have it on good authority your presence will please more than just myself. Sebastian's favorite color is blue, by the way." She winked slyly at Lola, before turning and exiting Mary's chambers.

Lola was puzzled by her last comment. Mary's dress happened to be blue, but the Queen had seemed to indicate that it was Lola's presence he might enjoy, not Mary's. _I am so confused,_ Lola thought. She looked back toward the stack of neatly covered dresses, and decided to take a small peak at her's. It was a beautiful shade of blue, with highlights of gold throughout. Very similar, in fact, to Mary's dress. Lola smiled, tucking the dress beneath her arm. _Maybe I will catch Sebastian's eye,_ she thought. She had kept her infatuation with the King's bastard to herself. She decided tonight could be her chance.

* * *

After her conversation with Lola, Queen Catherine hoped she had chosen the right girl. Though not the closest resemblance to Mary, she had the long, dark hair. She was the closest match the Queen and Nostradamus could agree upon within the court.

"Your Majesty." Nostradamus bowed, producing two small vials to Catherine. She inspected the red and blue vials happily. "The red vial is the first elixir you requested. Three drops should be put in each wine glass, no more. The blue vial is the second elixir you requested. Use the entire contents in one glass."

"Perfect. Thank you, Nostradamus." She turned, and headed back to her chambers. It was time to get ready for the evening's festivities. She only hoped her efforts would be fruitful.

* * *

The family gathered in the King and Queen's study. It was a small, yet comfortable room for their gathering. A fire had been lit, and it cast a beautiful glow around the room. The King and Diane were already seated, deep in conversation. Catherine had requested several court musicians to attend, and they sat in the corner, playing softly as the family arrived. Francis arrived, toting his newest interest, Alice on his arm.

"My dear son, there you are." Catherine pulled him away from Alice. "I thought you would escort your lovely wife this evening." The smiled Catherine displayed at Francis hurt her cheeks.

"She has not spoken to me in a while." He said sadly, before pulling Alice over. "Anyways, I did escort someone lovely."

Catherine nodded squeamishly. This was not what she had planned for this evening, but she would work around it. Sebastian entered, looking as disheveled as always. He sat on the bench closest to the fire, reaching for a book from the wall-to-ceiling bookshelves.

Catherine turned back to her task at hand. Careful she was not being observed, Catherine pulled four wine glasses over, placing three drops from the red vial in each. At the last second, and knowing Nostradamus said not too, she added one additional drop to two of the glasses. Quickly, she emptied the entire contents of the blue vial in one of the glasses with the additional drops.

Mary and her ladies were announced, and Catherine was pleased to see how effective her dress choices had been. Mary and Lola looked radiant, and quite similar. Through the haze of the elixir, she hoped the similarities would be enough.

She arranged the glasses on a tray, knowing she would have to deliver them herself to make sure they went to the right person. The first two glasses contained the extra elixir, while the back two contained the regular amount.

Mary decided to sit on opposite end of the bench near the fire, placing a socially respectable distance between herself and Sebastian. Her ladies sat politely on pillows around her feet. Lola chose the pillow closest to Sebastian, hoping she might enjoy a few moments conversation with him.

"My dear Mary, please have some wine." Catherine handed the first cup from the front to Mary. "Sebastian?" She handed him a cup from the back of the tray. She handed the last front cup to Francis, and the last back row cup to Lola.

"My dear, what are you doing?" King Henry asked, noting his wife was serving wine to their family and guests.

"I am just trying to be a gracious hostess." Catherine smiled back. After handing out a few more wine glasses, Catherine graciously allowed the attendant to take over and sat on her plush chair next to Henry. She had arranged for a couple of dancers to perform first, before Kenna would sing. Her plan was to allow the them to consume enough wine that the elixir would begin working. _Let us hope for a perfect evening,_ she thought.

* * *

Francis and Sebastian both put their wine on the table separating the bench and Francis' chair. Sebastian failed, on several attempts, to maintain any conversation with Francis, who was too absorbed in the giggles of the girl who sat by his feet. He reached for his wine again, hoping the more he drank the sooner he could leave. He would not mind spending the time with Mary, but the rest of the family was a different problem. Unbeknownst to him, he did not retrieve his own wine glass. Francis' glass had been close to his, and he grabbed it instead. He downed it in one swing.

Catherine noted with much pleasure the increasing flush on Mary's face. She fidgeted in her seat, obviously uncomfortable in some way. Lola, too, as well as Francis and Sebastian, appeared different than the others in the room. _Perfect, the elixir is working,_ Catherine inwardly chuckled.

"Dearest Kenna," Catherine started, "I believe you have some music to share with us this evening?" Kenna rose and curtseyed, heading toward the center of the room and nodded at the musicians.

Mary could not get comfortable. A tingling sensation resonated throughout her whole body. The heat from the fire tickled her skin, making her feel increasingly warm.

"Mary," Lola whispered, "I am not feeling well."

"Here, come sit by me." Mary gestured to the bench, moving herself over and brushing lightly against Sebastian. Without hesitation, he slid an arm around her waist, fingers gripping her hip. With the firelight and few candles in the room, the movement and his arm were hidden from view.

His touch unnerved Mary, sending her already tingling body into overdrive.

"Are you alright?" He whispered her direction, his voice held a deep huskiness Mary had not heard previously. A small shiver traveled down her spine.

"Yes, I am bit flustered is all. The fire is rather warm." Mary could not hid the tremor in her voice.

Mary instantly knew the soft melody as soon as the musicians started. All eyes were focused on Kenna, as the lyrics flowed freely from her lips.

" _Black is the colour of my true love's hair...his lips are like some roses fair_... _he has the sweetest smile and the gentlest of hands...I love the ground whereon he stands._ "

Mary could practically hear her own heart beating. Sebastian leaned in towards Mary, as if mesmerized by the lyrics.

" _I love my love and this he knows...I love the ground whereon he goes...I hope the day will surely come...when he and I can be as one."_

The room began to spin on Mary. Sebastian's grip on her hip grew tighter, and she felt suddenly ablaze at his touch. She needed to get out of the room. She needed air. She needed _something._ She wanted _something._ Or _som_ _eone._

Catherine was pleased to see the effect of the music, plus the elixir, on Mary, Sebastian, Lola and Francis. By the end of the last song, all were visibly anxious, and fidgety. Francis was rocking forward and back in his car. Sebastian's left knuckles were white as he gripped the bench arm. Mary's arms were wrapped around herself, her fingers brushing up and down the length of her upper arms. Lola looked miserably uncomfortable next to Mary. Catherine decided to call for more music and wine.

Abruptly, Sebastian wished everyone a good night, and left. Francis followed suit, though his mother missed him whispering in Alice's ear as he left. Mary and Lola stayed for a few more minutes, before making their excuse to retire as well. _Just as I planned,_ Catherine smiled.

* * *

Lola helped Mary quickly change into her nightclothes. Mary bid her a goodnight, anxiously wanting some time alone. She paced up and down the length of her chambers. The tingling inside refused to cease. Mary groaned. She was miserable from anticipation. _I must have had too much wine,_ Mary thought.

A sudden noise startled Mary out of her pacing, and she watched in surprise as her secret door swung open. Sebastian stood before her, equally dressed for bed. His tunic hung loose, and his trousers wavered unequally on his hips.

"I do not know what has come over me, Mary, but I had to see you. I feel drawn to you."

"And I you." Mary whispered, not caring how he knew about the secret door. He closed the distance between them, and reached to tenderly stroke her cheek. Mary lost what little willpower she possessed with that one touch. She wanted _him._

And with little hesitation, she uttered words she never thought she would say, "Take me to bed, Bash."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More.
> 
> Chapter 5 Music: Ring of Fire performed by Johnny Cash
> 
> Love is a burning thing / and it makes a fiery ring  
> Bound by wild desire / I fell in to a ring of fire
> 
> I fell in to a burning ring of fire / I went down down down / and the flames went higher  
> And it burns burns burns / the ring of fire / the ring of fire
> 
> The taste of love is sweet / when hearts like our's meet  
> I fell for you like a child / oh but the fire went wild

Mary awoke as the first rays of dawn were creeping through the heavy window curtains. The thick drapes surrounding her bed were never drawn down the previous evening, so the sun cast a beautiful glow through the sheer under-curtains, bathing Mary in an array of pastel colors. She felt deliciously alive, and yet horribly exhausted. Her fingers absently traced circles across the warm chest that rested beneath her head and hands. A flood of memories crashed through Mary like a tidal wave. Words were spoken Mary could never dream of repeating. His lips kissed every inch of her body. And his hands caused pleasure such as Mary had not known in a long time. _Oh those hands_ , she thought. She felt the familiar heat begin to rise in her body again.

Sebastian still slept soundly beneath her, and she admired the childlike innocence exhibited by his sleeping face. Their legs remained entwined, his well-muscled ones protectively enveloping hers. Mary moved her hand from his chest to gently brush through his very disheveled locks. They were always somewhat disheveled, but Mary aided in their current disorganization after having roughly gripped and pulled at those precious strands the night before.

Their first time had been rushed, needy, and a bit rough. Both were seeking a much needed release, and were riddled with a strange intense, insatiable desire. The second time, Sebastian had taken his time with Mary. He had been gentle, passionate, and it lasted, to both of their delights, longer. Much much longer. She remembered hearing him mutedly cry out her name, and she felt her body begin to waken in earnest. Her eyes closed in reminiscence, and smile lit up her face.

"Good morning, my sleeping beauty." Sebastian's eyes fluttered open as he spoke.

"It is a wonderful morning." Mary muttered dreamily. She removed her fingers from his hair in order to trace them down his cheek, laughing softly at the increasing stubble across his jaw. Their gazes locked for a few moments, before Sebastian's demeanor subtly changed.

"Mary, can I ask a serious question?" He hesitated as he spoke his question.

"You can ask me anything."

"Do you regret our actions?" A tremor of dread coursed through her at his words. _Does he regret our being together?_ Mary thought. _Do I?_

"I wondered briefly if I might, but beyond a doubt no, I do not."

"Great, because neither do I." Mary squeaked as he suddenly altered their positions, pushing his weight fully against her. He let out an involuntary moan as she teasingly rolled her hips upward.

"Oh Mary, you will be the death of me."

Mary stopped, pushing Sebastian away from her.

"Do not ever say those words, Bash. You do realize this is a most dangerous affair in which we indulge. The consequence of which could be death if we are uncovered." She paused, reaching to cup his face in her hands. "I could not ever be parted from you."

"We will be careful. Anyway, you are worth every risk." He whispered, reaching out to pull her to him. His lips sought hers sweetly. Mary eagerly responded, and together, they fell into oblivion for a third time.

* * *

A guard found Lola early in the morning, huddled in the garden near death. The colder late fall temperatures were rooted in place, and Lola's dress provided little to no warmth. Kenna received word first. As she left the King's chambers, she ran head-long into the guard carrying Lola inside towards Nostradamus' workroom. Stifling a gasp, she knew she needed to find Mary, immediately.

* * *

Begging Sebastian to leave through the secret door from whence he originally came was a bright idea. Their morning joining had pushed the limits on time, and Mary expected her ladies any minute. She quickly slipped on her shift, and decided to try and enjoy her last few minutes of solitude, wrapping herself in the sheets. They smelled like Sebastian.

"You look happy this morning, Mary." Greer said as she entered, a pitcher of fresh water splashing lightly between her hands. Mary reluctantly unraveled herself from her bed, accepting a small cloth from Greer to wash her face.

"I am, thank you." Mary replied smilingly. The cold water stung her face, but Mary enjoyed the refreshing feeling.

"Splendid, I was worried for you after you and Lola left so early last night." Mary stopped washing her face, remembering she had never checked in on Lola after they arrived back to her chambers.

"We were tired is all. Have you seen Lola this morning?"

No sooner had Mary spoken those words, than Kenna came crashing through the doors. She was out of breath, having sprinted from the opposite side of the castle.

"Kenna, pray tell us what is wrong?" Mary asked, gripping her dear friends hands between her own.

"Lola." Kenna struggled to catch her breath enough to tell them the news. "They found her in the garden this morning. She had been out there all night."

Mary and Greer gasped. Kenna's chest continued to heave.

"They took her to Nostradamus, but she did not look well. The temperatures were so cold!" Kenna cried. Mary reached an arm out to Kenna and Greer, embracing them both.

"Let me change and we will go check on her immediately." Mary hid the fear in voice. She would not forgive herself if something happened to Lola.

Greer had a dress already in hand, and Kenna went to work immediately on Mary's hair. Mary had a brief opportunity to see her reflection in her small hand mirror. Her hair was a disaster, and she was relieved Kenna made no mention of the unusual messy locks. Mary had no time to worry about the state of her chambers, or that her bed appeared too rumpled for its normal solitary occupant to have created.

Her feet quickly slide into her padded slippers, and the three hurried down the hall.

* * *

Francis groaned at the ceaseless knocking on his anteroom door. His head was pounding in rhythm with the knocking, and wanted the noise to stop. Slightly opening the door, he barked roughly at his attendant, "Why are you continuing this incessant racket?"

"Sorry, Your Grace. I have been asked to notify you that one of Lady Mary's attendant, a Lady Lola, was found near frozen to death in the gardens this morning."

Francis paused for a moment, thinking back on the last time he had seen Lola. She had been sitting next to Mary at the party the past evening, but he had left before they did.

"Will she be alright?" Francis asked, sincerely upset at the news. He thought of Mary, and how devastated she would be.

"No one knows, Your Grace. She is under the care of Nostradamus as we speak."

Francis nodded, thanking the attendant for awakening him. He grabbed his trousers and his crimson doublet, hastily dressing.

"Francis, where are you going?" Alice said, wrapping the sheet around her as she sat up in his bed.

"Duty calls, my sweet. Best leave quickly before my too many people see you. I would hate to have to explain myself to anyone." He reached across the covers, placing a kiss on her forehead. "But I will see you tonight."

* * *

Whistling, Sebastian made his way down the hall towards the castle entrance. Though still quite cold outside, he needed a brisk walk outdoors to organize his thoughts. Especially after the previous few hours, where a borderline was crossed. He could not take back his actions, nor did he want to undo them. However, he knew this was a slippery slope that most assuredly would cause his feet to stumble. If they continued behind closed doors, every move they made would need to be calculated to prevent discovery. Then his thoughts traveled down a different path. There were other, much more personal, consequences of such a dalliance. He was living proof of that issue.

"Brother!" Sebastian turned his head at his name. Francis sauntered down the hall, looking a bit frazzled. Sebastian put aside his thoughts of Mary as best he could.

"Did Alice dress you this morning?" Sebastian quipped, and Francis rolled his eyes.

"No, I am in a bit of a rush. Did you hear the news?" Sebastian shook his head. "Lady Lola was found in the gardens near death from the cold. I must check on Mary."

"Let me accompany you, Francis. Where are we going?" Sebastian's heart raced thinking about the worry Mary must have been enduring.

"To Nostradamus."

* * *

Mary and the rest of her ladies were already there by the time Francis and Sebastian arrived. Mary sat at the feet of Lola's cot, gently stroking her friends' hand. Sebastian quelled the urge to run and comfort her in front of everyone. Francis knelt by Mary, whispering in her ear and placing an arm around her back. She laid her head on his shoulder, tears falling freely from her eyes. Sebastian watched in silence. He knew he needed to let her husband comfort her at a time like this, but it did not mean it hurt him any less. He turned, walking over to the tall soothsayer.

"Will Lola survive?" He whispered, watching Nostradamus grind dried leaves with a mortar and pestle. He stopped to add water before continuing to grind.

"The outlook is hopeful. Frostbite had not set in yet, but we must hope an infection in her lungs does not take root." Sebastian nodded in understanding, having been under Nostradamus' care before, unfortunately more times than he could count.

"Do we know what she was doing out in gardens?" Sebastian asked hopefully. Nostradamus just shook his head.

"I think we must wait, and pray she is able to tell us." Nostradamus said quietly, looking thoughtfully at the young girl spread out on the cot. "I will do my best." He muttered, mixing the contents he had been so diligently grinding into a wine glass.

Mary respectfully left her spot by Lola's side to give Nostradamus room. She glanced over her shoulder at Sebastian, smiling weakly. He wanted to run to her in that moment, sweep her in his arms, and wipe away her tears.

But here, in this moment, she was Francis' wife, and his future Queen, and not his to comfort. This was a pain he must learn to handle.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are interested, I am also on tumblr, posting about both this fanfic, as well as random other things (just search for soonerwxgirl)
> 
> Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More.
> 
> Chapter 6 Music: Dark Night of the Soul performed by Loreena McKennitt
> 
> Oh night thou was my guide / oh night more loving than the rising sun  
> Oh night that joined the lover to the beloved one / transforming each of them into the other
> 
> I lost myself to him / and laid my face upon my lover's breast  
> And care and grief grew dim / as in the morning's mist became the light  
> There they dimmed amongst the lilies fair / there they dimmed amongst the lilies fair / there they dimmed amongst the lilies fair

Eventually, Francis had to pull Mary away from Lola's side for a brief rest. Mary reluctantly agreed, only under the pretense that she would immediately return after a brief respite. Nostradamus stayed in his workroom, keeping a eye on the young woman. Her breathing was even, though shallow, but the color had yet to return to her cheeks. He was expecting a possible fever before her battle was over.

"Nostradamus." Coming from Queen Catherine his name sounded more like a command. He sighed, pulling himself away from the fragile Lola.

"Yes, my Queen." He sensed the aggravation rolling off of Catherine in waves.

"What happened to her." She pointed at Lola with an unhindered vehemence. "There are rumors she was in the garden all night." She looked expectantly at Nostradamus, who did not usually like encouraging her wrath, but found he was quite enjoying her current rage. "All night? My pawn was alone in the garden all night?"

"Your Majesty, I only know the guards found her there this morning. From her current state, it appears most likely she was out there all night, yes."

Catherine began ringing her hands together, a clear sign of her nervousness. _She was my distraction,_ Catherine thought.

"You never informed me of your plans, Your Majesty. Maybe I can help you in some other way now?" Nostradamus quietly arranged and rearranged the bottles on his shelves, watching the Queen warily.

"She was to be my distraction for Sebastian, Nostradamus." Catherine nodded to Lola. "He has too much influence over Mary. I wanted him out of the picture." Nostradamus did not follow the Queen's train of thought, knowing the elixir's he made and their general purpose. "My hope was he would confuse Lola for Mary in his drunken, over..." Catherine searched for a better word, but none came, "aroused state, and claim her. Should there be any consequences of such a union, Henry would make sure Sebastian would do right by the poor girl."

"I see." Nostradamus glanced toward Lola again, feeling sorry for the young woman being wrapped up in Catherine's schemes. "I do not understand, then, the need for the elixir for Lady Mary."

"My son and Mary have been distant of late. They needed some prodding in the right direction." Catherine made a motion together with her hands.

"The second elixir, for increasing fertility, I assume that was for the Lady Lola?" Nostradamus was too invested in this scheme to not fully understand Catherine's goal. She sighed, shaking her head.

"No, it, too, was for Mary. I thought you figured that one out already, my great soothsayer." Catherine's piercing eyes leveled on his menacingly. "They have had a fruitless marriage for over a year. They needed some guidance in that arena as well. If Mary conceives a child then Francis, and France and Scotland, will have an heir. Mary, therefore, becomes expendable."

Nostradamus nodded as if understanding, though he did originally know that particular elixir was for Mary. He just wanted to hear his Queen confess her motives. He turned to face Catherine, opening his mouth to reply when he stopped suddenly in his tracks. The familiar tingling began in his fingers, spreading throughout his body as his vision glazed over. Through the haze, he could barely hear the Queen coming to his side, acknowledging his trance-like state as forthcoming of a vision.

_A small child ran happily through a field dotted with bluebells. The boy's dark curls bounced as he skipped merrily. The child stopped, intensely gazing toward the blue loch behind the castle walls, before turning in laughter and running into a man's outstretched arms. A man who called the boy James._

Nostradamus regained his sight quickly. He knew the voice who spoke the child's name. He knew of the blue loch and field of bluebells where the child played. And he most certainly recognized the yellow flag bearing the red dragon which flew high above the castle walls.

"What did you see, Nostradamus?" Catherine urged, gently shaking the soothsayers arm.

"A child. I saw a child. The child was happy." He felt the internal pull to not divulge everything from his vision. He knew most what he saw, if true, would not work in the Queen's favor. Catherine smiled happily.

"Wonderful! Then let us hope my plan has worked." Catherine's giddiness overwhelmed Nostradamus. He wanted her to leave so he could go back to tending Lola.

"Your Majesty, I must rest..."

"Oh yes, I will take my leave. Thank you, dear friend, for all you have accomplished." Catherine exited his workroom with the same flurry with which she had entered. Grabbing the forgotten remedy for Lola, Nostradamus stirred the contents vigorously, mixing them to perfection. He returned to the seat Mary had vacated a few hours previously, gently reaching a hand under Lola's head to support his effort to help her drink.

"I wish the Queen would learn from ladies such as you." He whispered to Lola, carefully wiping her brow with a warm, damp cloth. "She would learn so much."

* * *

Mary's feet were heavy when she finally reached her chambers for the evening. She had visited Lola one last time for the day, being assured by Nostradamus that he would alert her if anything changed. Her blurry eyes took time to focus on the soft firelight as she entered. Her bed was still unkempt, since her ladies had been as preoccupied with Lola's predicament as she had been. Mary reached for her bedpost unsteadily, needing a moment to gather her thoughts from the last day.

One thought wore heavily on her heart. She had lain with Sebastian. She did not regret her actions. She had told him as much. But was it wise? _Of course not,_ she thought. The ramifications were great indeed of such actions. And what of her husband? Francis had been her beloved once, and deep down she loved him still. However, she desired more from her marriage than duty. She desired love, and family, and Francis, more or less, refused to give her either. On the latter, she still blamed herself. But on the former, she truly thought their love was boundless. Apparently, it did have bounds, and for Francis, they were rather small.

The other thought she could not dismiss was her dear Lola's troubles. She prayed fervently all day for a speedy recovery. Until she regained consciousness and could tell them what happened, Mary vowed to try and learn of her friend's apparent rash actions the previous night.

With a sigh, Mary reached around her back to attempt to unlace the fastenings of her gown. She craved the soft linen of her bed infinitesimally more than the rigid confines of her stiff bodice.

"Might I help?" His voice came suddenly from the corner near the fireplace. Mary swiveled to see Sebastian. He occupied the chair closest the fire, donning only his longer nightshirt, with a book in his lap. Mary's sudden fear at finding her chambers not wholly unoccupied was quickly replaced with elation. She beckoned him closer, wrapping her arms around his neck when he was within distance.

"Shall I report you for stowing away in my chambers?" She asked teasingly, twirling her fingers down his neck and through his short hair.

"Only if you shall exact my punishment." His words ghosted across her ear as kissed her cheek and down her chin. He pulled away, and Mary resisted her body's urge to roughly tow him back.

"Are you alright after this morning? I am confidant Lola will be fine. Nostradamus is a fine physician, even if he spends too much time with the Queen." The last part hinted at the cheeky Sebastian Mary had come to love, but the first part was dripping with compassion. He truly cared for both her physical and mental well-being, a state of caring his brother could never dream of attaining.

"I am, Sebastian, thank you. I trust Lola's in the best of care, and I will pray unceasingly for an easy recovery." His hands were gently stroking her cheeks as she spoke, and the comfort in such a small gesture consumed her. She never realized how much love could be withdrawn from something as simple as a caress.

"Shall we retire for the night? I am weary." Mary grasped his hand firmly in hers, gently tugging him towards the bed. She turned from him, sweeping her hair over her shoulder and exposing her back and the pyramid of laces she had yet to unfasten. Sebastian took the hint, his fingers working quickly, albeit to Mary's delight quite clumsily, on the fastenings. She shifted out of the cumbersome garment, climbing deftly into bed in only her shift.

Sebastian followed her cues, noting her needs were what mattered tonight. Climbing in beside her, he made no effort to continue undressing her, but instead opened his arms, accepting her petite frame against his warmly. She kissed the hollow of his neck, the only exposed area of skin she could easily reach, and muttered a quiet 'thank you.'

"Anything for you, Mary, anything for you." He replied, shifting her more comfortably against him. Knowing she would easily succumb to sleep tonight, he decided to hurriedly ask a question that had been burning through his thoughts since morning.

"Mary, what if ..." He struggled to continued, "...what if you conceive a child?" The words were barely more than whisper, but Mary heard them and stiffened nonetheless.

"Do not worry, Bash. I believe children are not in my future." He immediately filled with concern at the tone in her voice, and rolled slightly to better see her face.

"What makes you say that?"

"Francis and I were together, as man and wife, for over a year and never once did I feel a child quicken in my belly." Tears were beginning distort Mary's vision, and Sebastian hated that his words had elicited this reaction.

"Oh Mary, I never meant to upset you. I was honestly worried about the future of our relationship, and the implications if certain...complications were to arise."

"As I said, there is no need for you to worry."

Sebastian hesitated before mentioning the next thought that arose in his mind. "But Francis has no children at all. Not with any of his mistresses. Could the problem be with him, and not you?"

Mary's eyes widened, but she shook her head vehemently. "No, I firmly believe, deep in my soul, that it is my problem. And eventually, it will be used against me in this court. The English have no problem ridding husbands and King's of fruitless wives. Do you think France would be any different? If I cannot produce an heir it could destroy my country and yours."

"Good gracious, Mary. You carry the weight of the world on your slender, beautiful shoulders. You have only been married a little over a year. Maybe you could make such a harsh statement in five or ten years, but not now. Though Francis may act indifferent, he would certainly never dismiss you so easily."

Mary pondered those last words. After his actions the past few months, she had to disagree with Sebastian. But after the events of the past day, Mary did not want to dwell on such bleak topics.

"But let us not dwell on such topics tonight, Sebastian. As I said, I am weary, and would prefer yours arms around me as I sleep." He pulled her close, protectively enveloping her as she had asked..

"As am I, Mary. Please rest, my love. All fears will be forgotten by tomorrow." She smiled at his never-ending attempts at humor, wishing all her fears would truly be gone by the morning.

She rested her head on his shoulder, and drifted off to sleep to the gentle steady hum of Sebastian's heartbeat.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More.
> 
> Chapter 7 Music: A Fire is Burning performed by Oyster Band
> 
> Names were gone like footprints / A whisper on the wind  
> A lover was a comrade, was a stranger, was a friend  
> When we slept our eyes were open / And this thumping in our chest  
> Said there is no, there is no, there is no rest / Because
> 
> A fire is burning in our house / A fire burning up the house of man  
> A fire raging in our house / Burning up the house of man

A week had passed since the Queen's fated evening party. Lola was still recovering, under the diligent care of Nostradamus. The Queen noted, with some disgust, his growing affections towards Mary's lady. The Queen knew it was too early to know if her plan had worked, and Mary had conceived a child with Francis. Nonetheless, she kept a close eye on the young princess for any subtle signs. She was reassured that Nostradamus' vision had shown him a child.

What was not subtle, however, was Kenna's joyful proclamation that she was with child. _Another bastard,_ Catherine thought, _just what this court needs._ She already had to deal with Sebastian being the King's favorite. Hopefully Henry never got it in his head to legitimize his oldest child. Catherine would have to take matters in her own hands if that were to happen.

Taking one last glance at Nostradamus' hunched form as he worked at his table, Catherine turned on her heel and headed back to her courtiers.

* * *

He knew she had been watching him. He waited patiently for her to leave before attending to Lola again. She had roused briefly that morning, and he hoped with some continued persuasion she might fully awake again. He knew keeping the truth of his vision from Queen Catherine was risky, but he could not tell her he saw the child playing happily in Scotland. Or that the man whom the child ran eagerly to was not Francis. The news could tear a kingdom apart.

The sound of muffled speaking tore Nostradamus away from his reverie and over to Lola's side. Her eyes blinked unsteadily, attempting to focus on her surroundings. He hoped that she might remember her brief visits to his workroom, otherwise her awakening might bring a shock to her comprised system. Quite unexpectedly, her eyes opened completely, staring right at him. He stayed routed in the chair next to her cot, her eyes keeping him in place. It unnerved him, feeling as scrutinized as he did under her unwavering gaze. She sat in silence for several minutes, just watching him. He finally lowered his head, unable to match her intent stare.

"Why am I here?" Her voice was soft and weak, but he heard her words clearly.

"You decided to spend a night in the gardens, my lady. It was quite cold." Nostradamus wanted to ask a dozen questions, but quelled the urge to do so quickly.

"Last night? Oh, right, I vaguely remember the chilly air." Her voice carried a dreamy quality, indicating she was not yet fully coherent. "I had quite an interesting night last night. You would not believe what I saw."

"Lady Lola, you have been here almost a week. I think I should fetch Lady Mary." He rose and walked to the door, waving down a guard near the end of the hall and telling him to fetch Lady Mary immediately.

"A week? Has it been that long?" She continued speaking softly, fingers gently stroking the worn blanket draped across her legs.

"Yes, it has. You gave everyone quite a scare." Nostradamus quickly filled a wine glass, adding the ingredients he had just mixed prior to her awakening. "Hear, drink this. It will help. Lady Mary should be here shortly."

Lola nodded in understanding, reaching for the glass and slowly sipping it's contents. Though foul smelling, the mixture warmed her as she drank. Memories from that evening were gently surfacing. She was very much looking forward to speaking with Mary.

* * *

Mary spent the morning on the chaise lounge in the study, reading through a delightful selection from Canterbury Tales. Sebastian was out with Francis and several huntsman, gathering the last vestiges of wild game before they hibernated for the winter. Kenna, having newly proclaimed she was with child, lounged across from Mary, piled with furs to keep any chill away from the newest member of the royal family.

A small twinge of pain blossomed in Mary's lower abdomen, enough that she lightly gasped and placed a hand over her belly. The pain ended as quickly as it started, but her sudden movement drew Kenna's attention.

"Are you alright, Mary?" She asked gently. Catherine's ears perked up, and she raised her head to watch the interchange between the two young ladies. She noted Mary's hand and her stomach, inwardly smiling at what that action might mean.

"Yes, Kenna, thank you." Mary smiled sweetly back at Kenna, slightly envious of her friend's current situation. Deciding to stretch her legs, Mary passed Kenna, patting her gently on the head, and headed toward the large bay window, the edges outlined in frosty condensation. Across the expanse of the castle entrance rode Francis and Sebastian and their company of huntsman. The spoils of their hunt draped between various men, and in the cart they pulled behind them. In this moment, the two men acted like brothers, laughing heartily between the two, and enjoying their time together. Mary was pleased, because though she had loved one, and was in love with the other, she never wanted to drive a wedge between them. She knew if her relationship with Sebastian was ever found out, the pain would be unbearable for Francis because the betrayal would be two-fold.

"Lady Mary, Nostradamus has sent me to find you." Mary was so engrossed in watching the men cantor across the walkway to the castle she never heard the knock on the door of the study. Mary realized this meant something had happened with Lola.

"Yes, I will come right away." The other ladies, including Queen Catherine, made to leave with Mary when the guard stopped them.

"Lady Mary was specifically requested to come alone." Mary followed the guard dutifully, noting Catherine's indignant retort toward the guard as they left the study.

Nostradamus had helped prop Lola up to a sitting position by the time Mary arrived. Mary jubilantly approached her friend, anxious to discuss many things with her.

"Oh my dear Lola," Mary embraced her genuinely, "how glad am I to see you awake. How do you feel?"

"I am weak, in both body and mind." Lola spoke, but the tone of her voice was strange to Mary. There was a hint of sadness, anger, and possible hostility

"Can you tell me what happened?" Mary asked softly, reaching for Lola's hand. Lola let her take it briefly, before pulling it abruptly away and tucking it under her other arm. She stared at Mary, before deciding it would be best to beguile her with her story from that evening.

"Do you really want to know what happened?" Lola inquired, knowing Mary would not like her answer.

"Yes, of course."

"After helping you get ready for bed, I went walking around the castle halls. I was searching for something I could not identify, but my body kept telling me I needed something." Mary found Lola's words very curious, as they described just how she had felt that night too. "I felt like I was coming out of my skin." Lola continued. The hair on Mary's arms began to rise. "I thought I saw..." Lola hesitated before continuing, "I thought I saw Sebastian head outside, and I went to find him." Her cheeks flushed scarlet with this admission.

"Sebastian? You thought you saw him?" Mary's heart begin to race, afraid of the subsequent words Lola might utter.

"Yes, you see, I like him. I think I might love him. I am in love with him. I have been for awhile. After Colin, I did not think I would so easily find love again."

"Does he know of your affection?" Mary swallowed the lump in her throat at Lola's words.

"I hope so, but I think not. You see, I went to the gardens because I thought I saw him head in that direction. Instead, I was alone." Lola looked away from Mary at this point, gathering her choice words carefully. "And then I glanced back at the castle. Apparently, I forgot to close your curtains for the evening, Mary."

Mary gasped. In the fevered state she had been in, she failed to realize at least one curtain had been drawn aside.

"You see, I found Sebastian." Lola's expression was hurtful now. "I found him in your arms, and it was not a brotherly gesture. Mary how could you? How long has this been going on?"

Mary tried to reach for Lola again, but she refused to be swayed by Mary's attempt at outward affection. Lola saw the hurt and sadness, and extreme fear etched across Mary's face. Mary glanced over her shoulder, noting Nostradamus had conveniently left the workroom.

"I did not know you held him in such high esteem." The words were barely above a whisper.

"Be that as it may, Mary, how long have you been with him?"

"Not long. I have always harbored feelings for him, but with the way Francis has treated me recently, I thought..." Mary could not continue, the tears threatening to cascade down her face. There were no adequate words to describe her betrayal, and she knew it.

"You thought what? You could be a normal woman and give your love to another man? Mary, you are a Queen."

"You think I do not know the danger? I would never enter into such an arrangement so lightly."

"An arrangement? So you plan to continue this folly?" Lola's voice began to rise with anger, and Mary winced.

"Be quiet, Lola. As you said, I am Queen, and I can chose how I live my life." Mary sat up straight, commanding her voice to instill loyalty and understanding. "You will never repeat this conversation, am I clear?" Lola laughed.

"Yes, Your Grace." Her words were laced with mocking politeness. "And Mary, you never need to pull your title with me. I may be angry with you, but I would never hurt you." Mary smiled sadly at one of her closest friends since childhood, someone with which she thought she could share all her life's troubles.

"Thank you, my friend." Mary heard Nostradamus enter the room quietly, thankful he had not been around for the worst part of their conversation. She gave him her thanks for notifying her of Lola's awakening, and begged him make sure she rested comfortably.

* * *

Earlier in the week, Mary learned the path through the secret passages to Sebastian's quarters. She memorized the number of steps, and the direction of the turns. It was midnight, and Mary was determined to put her memory to the test. Her feet traveled down the 432 steps, taking the right turn, followed by a left. When she finally found her destination, she listened closely at the door, making sure Sebastian was alone.

When she pushed the door open, Sebastian was seated in front of his fireplace, watching the flames intently. He turned with the opening of the door, his happiness at her arrival evident on his face.

"You are a welcome sight tonight, Mary." Sebastian greeted her with open arms, as he gently picked her up and placed her on the edge of his bed.

"As are you. I have had a most unfortunate day." Mary laid back across the pillows, angling one leg comfortably towards Sebastian, who rested a his head against the proffered knee. It was moment's like this where Mary truly felt happy just being alive.

"Do you want to tell me about it, or should I start guessing?" His mirth caused Mary to grin sweetly in response, before her face hardened back at knowledge of what she was about to tell him. "Oh, why the sudden change?"

"Lola awoke earlier today. She was in the garden that night searching for you." Mary watched his brows furrow at her words.

"Me? Why?" He sat up straighter to see her, placing his arms on either side of her legs. She fiddled with her hands uneasily, unsure how she should tell him their indiscretion was uncovered.

"She thinks she is in love with you, and thought she saw you head that direction after leaving the Queen's party." Looking back at the fire, Mary continued slowly. "She realized fairly quickly you were not outside, but when she started to head back towards the castle she saw in the windows of my chamber. She saw you, and me, and it was obvious to her we were...intimate."

Sebastian's eyes widened at Mary's words, and he hung his head low. "Can you trust her with this secret?"

"I will have to Sebastian, will I not? She has promised she is loyal to me in every way, and I believe her." Mary reached out, fingers grazing down his cheek. "But you did not see the hurt and disappointment in her eyes. Some part of her still blames me for the death of her first love, Colin, and now I think she will blame me for stealing a love that was never hers in the first place."

"If she is as loyal as she says, she will forgive you." He whispered. "Eventually." Mary glanced back at the flames, the heat ticking her skin even at this distance. "Mary, I think it is a little warm in her, do you agree?"

Mary turned to answer, only to be awarded with a kiss on her ankles. He placed his lips gently on the inside of her leg, slowly working his way to her knee. His hands found the edge of her shift, fisting it between his hands before pushing it up to reveal more of Mary's skin, enjoying his view as she glistened in the firelight. Mary placed a hand under his chin, tempting him to meet her gaze. She beckoned him closer, capturing his lips heatedly with her own.

"One thing I agree with Lola," Mary attemped to speak between Sebastian's kisses, "this is a dangerous folly." Sebastian pulled away from Mary long enough to devoid himself of his tunic, and unfasten the laces of his trousers, pushing them down and off his hips.

"It may be." He said, cradling Mary against his body as she shimmied out of her shift. "But it is a beautiful folly."

They groaned in unison as Sebastian claimed her body with his own. For tonight, they would lavish attention wholly on the other, for they knew each following day was never a guarantee in the world of courtly love.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright folks, tray tables in the upright and locked position, this story is beginning to take off! The next few chapters promise to be a bumpy ride =) If you are interested, I am also on tumblr and twitter (just search for soonerwxgirl).
> 
> Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More.
> 
> Chapter 8 Music: Crash and Burn by Savage Garden
> 
> When you feel all alone / And the world has turned its back on you  
> Give me a moment please to tame your wild wild heart  
> I know you feel like the walls are closing in on you / It's hard to find relief and people can be so cold  
> When darkness is upon your door and you feel like you can't take anymore
> 
> Let me be the one you call / If you jump I'll break your fall  
> Lift you up and fly away with you into the night  
> If you need to fall apart / I can mend a broken heart  
> If you need to crash then crash and burn / You're not alone
> 
> 'Cause there has always been heartache and pain  
> And when it's over you'll breathe again / You'll breath again

The next few weeks proved to be a flurry of activity throughout the castle. Preparations were already underway for the Twelfth Night feast, and the following day Epiphany celebration, which were still over a month away. It was near full winter now, being the end of November, and Mary spent much of her time with her ladies in her sitting room, or with the whole family in the library. Starting each day, however, had been an ordeal. Kenna had been increasingly sick over the past few days. It was the normal unsettling feelings that accompany a growing child, and Mary hoped Kenna would overcome the whole situation quickly.

Mary gently stroked Kenna's hair away from her damp forehead as Kenna retched again into the small basin. Kenna laid her head back in Mary's lap, sighing into the silken fabric of her dress.

"Mary, I never knew it could be this bad." Kenna whispered, struggling to calm the nausea in her stomach. "Remind me to never have any more children." Mary chuckled at Kenna's statement. If this was how Kenna handled a bit of morning sickness, Mary had no idea how she would survive labor itself.

"I think most women who carry children say those same words. This too shall pass, be comforted in that fact." Mary remembered the numerous times her own mother would reminisce about the early months of carrying her, and how she was sick for several months. Mary felt the convulsion in Kenna's body almost before Kenna did herself, as she heaved again. The queasiness rose in Mary too, watching Kenna be sick. She tried taking a few deep breaths to calm her system, but the nausea only became worse. She moved herself gently around Kenna so she could empty her stomach as well.

"Oh no, Mary, not you too." Aylee exclaimed, quickly bringing a wet towel over to wipe Mary's face.

"Do not worry about me, Aylee. I think this was just a sympathy reaction." Mary smiled weakly, laying her head down on the cool floor for a minute.

"What is going on here?" Lola asked, just entering Mary's chambers. "Are they both sick?"

"I think it was too much for Mary, watching Kenna be sick." Aylee whispered, but Mary could still here the words. "Where are have been this morning? We looked everywhere for you."

Though Mary could not see Lola's face from her current angle, the blush was evident in her voice. "I was visiting with Nostradamus. He has been tutoring me."

"You have been spending a lot of time with him lately." Aylee's statement needed no response, and Lola did not provide one. Instead, she walked over to Mary and gently sat beside her, taking her head in her lap just as Mary had done with Kenna. Aylee proceeded to help Kenna, whose color was slowly returning to her cheeks.

"Mary, are you sure about what just happened." Her words were whispered, and Mary understood the implication between the words. Lola was really saying _'Are you sure a child is not causing your sickness as well?'_

"I do not want to talk, Lola. Please just be comforting for a moment." Lola gently stroked Mary's hair in response. She was the only one of Mary's ladies who knew about her ongoing relationship with Sebastian, and she promised Mary to keep her secret. It would be a difficult secret to keep if Mary happened to be with child. Lola knew it had been almost two months since Francis had visited Mary for such a rendezvous, and if she was with child, Mary would have to do some convincing to keep suspicions from arising.

"Tell me more about your visit with Nostradamus." Mary wanted to change the topic, and was watching Lola carefully. Keeping her eyes on Mary's hair, Lola wanted to reveal the entirety of the situation with which she found herself. But, part of her was still hurt and angry over Mary's actions, and she found confiding in her as a friend to be difficult. She decided to only share part of her experience with Nostradamus. _We all deserve our secrets,_ Lola thought.

"He is tutoring me. He thinks I have great potential to be a healer, such as he." Mary knew her friends well enough to sense when they were not telling the whole story, but she did not push Lola. She would tell in her own time.

"Oh that would be wonderful, Lola. Does he think you are a seer?"

"Oh no, I do not have that talent. But Nostradamus is so much more than a visionary." Detecting Lola's adoration for the mysterious soothsayer was acutely obvious, even if she would not speak the words. Mary grasped Lola's hand, squeezing it gently.

"If you are happy, than I am happy." Lola knew she could believe those words, even though Mary's secret relationship with Sebastian had hurt her deeply. _I am beyond the hurt now,_ Lola thought, _there are many new happening_ s _at court that I shall now be privy._

A guard arrived, announcing the need for Mary to be presented in the Great Hall. _Something drastic must have happened_ , Mary thought. Both she and Kenna were feeling were feeling well enough to attend right away, though they both looked worse for the wear. Struggling to regain their composure, they stood and sighed, straightening their dresses and tucking away loose strands of hair. With of whoosh of skirts, they hurried after the guard.

* * *

Upon entering the Great Hall, Mary noted most of the court was in place, including Francis who was chatting animatedly with his mother. Sebastian was near the back, amongst a handful of the younger men at court he considered friends. Her eyes found his quickly, and though the glance was brief, the love he could express with one look swept her away.

Lola slipped quietly behind Mary as they entered, heading for the shadows and a tall figure who stood there. Mary could barely make out Nostradamus' profile, or the sly way Lola slid her hand into his open one before disappearing into the shadows herself.

"Oh good, Lady Mary, we have received the most important news." King Henry began, nodding to the English Ambassador who stepped forward.

"My lady," he bowed respectively. "My Queen, Mary Tudor, is gravely ill. I have received word to expect her unfortunate passing any day now." Mary stifled a gasp. The English queen was by no means young, but rumors had circulated fairly recently of a possible pregnancy, providing England with a Catholic heir, and an heir to nearby Spain. This would effectively push Mary and any possible children from ever obtaining the English throne. To hear news of her imminent demise was certainly shocking.

"Are you certain, good ambassador?" The rumors of an English heir by the failing Queen had been dispelled, so this newest development meant Mary was closer to the throne then she ever thought she would be.

"Unfortunately, yes. Preparations are underway for her half sister, Elizabeth, to be crowned."

"But she is sympathetic to the Protestants."

"She may be, but we really have no other option that would not send England into civil war." Mary nodded in understanding.

"Thank you, Ambassador. I offer my sincerest condolences, for I know not how soon I shall see you again. Know I share the grief with the English people."

The court was astounded by the generosity shown by their princess, especially considering the numerous attempts on her life by English hands. Both Francis and Sebastian stared in admiration at Mary, clearly understanding her need for civility in such a moment.

What no-one could see was the tremors that threatened to unravel her body. The news was terrific and terrible at the same time. The news meant a continued threat from England, unless their newest Queen had an heir. But the news also meant she might have both England, along with her beloved Scotland, someday.

Mary felt suddenly very tired. She turned towards Aylee and Greer, beckoning them forward to help her towards a chair. But the darkness crept quickly into her vision, weakening her limbs and fogging her mind.

The last thing she saw before succumbing to the encroaching night were the faces of both Francis and Sebastian, rushing towards her and yelling her name.

* * *

Voices swam indistinctly through Mary's mind. She could not make out the words, but several people were speaking at the same time. It made her head hurt. She attempted to push herself up on her elbows, but the nausea that ripped through her at the movement prevented it. Her eyes blinked several times, adjusting to the dimmer light. Through the clearing haze, she could make out her surroundings enough to know she was in Nostradamus' workroom. She had been there numerous times to visit others, but never as a patient herself. She closed her eyes for a moment, opening them again to find an older woman gazing sweetly down at her. She placed a weathered hand on Mary's forehead, softly smoothing her hair away from her eyes.

"How do you feel, my dear?" The older woman's voice was calming, and the peaceful expression across her face made Mary trust her immediately.

"A bit weak, and nauseous, honestly. What happened?" Nostradamus appeared from the corner of the room, carrying a small cup and handing it to Mary.

"You fainted after speaking with the English Ambassador." He said clearly. "Please, drink this. It will help with the nausea." Mary muttered a 'thank you' before timidly taking a sip. The liquid was warm, and mildly sweet. Whether it was the liquid, or the presence of the nice older woman, Mary was not sure, but she quickly felt relaxed. The older woman glanced over her shoulder, nodding to Nostradamus who acknowledged the older woman and left his workroom.

"My dear, I have some news for you." The older woman began explaining to Mary what had caused her fainting spell earlier in the day. Mary's eyes widened in disbelief. _There is no way this is possible,_ she thought. She voiced her concerned to the woman, who lightly chuckled, and assured her it was most possible, and most true. Mary laughed, feeling the moisture rimming her eyes.

Then the horror struck. Mary realized what this meant. She started to count the weeks off her fingers, trying to remember the last time her husband had visited her chambers. When her counting moved from one hand to the other, fear started to settle in Mary. The fear was short-lived, however, as her joy and elation surfaced once more. She thanked the older woman, whom she officially learned was Lady Agnes, and assured her she would visit at least once a month to confirm all was well. She accepted a small jar of tea also, in case the nausea threatened to overwhelm her again.

She left the workroom, excitedly on a mission. She found the man she was looking for, working away on a striking necklace of rubies. Though of noble birth, he excelled at his craftsmanship, and worked on commission for the court. She had pondered for several weeks now what to give as gifts for Epiphany, and with the revelation from Lady Agnes, she now knew. She described exactly what she wanted, and that she wanted two of different styles made. One was to be very royal, and rich. The other was to be simple, reflective of the man for whom it was destined.

"These will be beautiful gifts, Your Grace." He stated, smiling at Mary. "They will be needed by Epiphany, I assume?"

"Yes, they will be my Epiphany gifts." Mary started to leave, before hesitating. The nature of the gift would make her condition very obvious, especially if the maker were to gossip amongst others. "But I must ask for your silence on the issue. If I hear of any rumors around court, I will know exactly who to blame first."

She did not want to threaten him, but she felt a stern warning would suffice.

"Oh, I understand completely, Your Grace. These are sensitive matters, and you can trust me to be silent on the issue."

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate all you are doing for me." She bowed her head in thanks, and left for her quarters.

Her mind raced as wound her way through the corridors. She must speak to Sebastian. She loved him desperately, but could she tell him the news? She would have to, at least eventually. She decided to wait until the Epiphany celebration to tell him, when her gift would be explanation enough. However, the joy she felt would be hard to contain, even if just for a few short weeks. She thought back on their conversation, when he questioned her for being so cynical about herself. He was right, of course, and though Mary was scared about the what the future might entail, she knew she could handle anything if he stayed by her side.

In the meantime, she needed to talk to someone. The only person who knew what was going on, at least partially, was Lola. She knew this newest revelation would strain their relationship even further, but she wanted her advice.

When she entered her chambers, she was thankful to find Lola sitting quietly by the window her needlework sitting untouched in her lap as she gazed out the window.

"Lola, my dear friend, I am glad to see you." Mary joined her, sitting across from her lady-in-waiting. "I am in need of some friendly advice and encouragement."

"Of course, Mary, I will do my best." Lola's interest was peaked, for Mary did not usually seek advice from others.

"You mentioned you were worried for me this morning, and for a specific reason." Lola nodded, unsure if Mary was heading in the direction she thought she was. "Well, your fears have been realized."

Lola's eyes widened, and though her needlework clattered to the floor, she made no attempt to pick it up.

"Are you sure, Mary?" When Mary nodded, Lola realized the danger they could all face. "What do you need me to do?"

"I need your help with Francis. I must convince him." Mary's eyes pleaded with Lola.

"I will help as I can. All, we can do is our best." Lola whispered in reply. Mary embraced her childhood friend, and prayed for a miracle, in more ways than one.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your continued support! The next few chapters promise to be a bumpy ride =) If you are interested, I am also on tumblr and twitter (just search for soonerwxgirl).
> 
> Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More.
> 
> Chapter 9 Music: The Work of the Lord by Mediaeval Baebes (The Virgin Queen Soundtrack)
> 
> I would include lyrics, but they are in latin. It's much prettier as background music.

 

* * *

Luring Francis back to Mary's bed, for at least one night, proved easier than either Mary, or Lola, imagined. They decided that was the best course of action, as attempting to pass the child as being conceived a month prior would prove difficult in the long run. Mary understood premature births were less complicated to explain away than a child born significantly later than it should be. A few properly dropped cues, from both Mary and Lola, and Francis came quite willing to Mary's chamber.

Francis was not as pleasing a lover as Sebastian, but Mary tried not to compare them. She knew the right words to say, and when to say them. She knew where to touch Francis that most satisfied him, and yet he never took the time to duplicate this satisfaction.

But, for the first time since they were just married, Francis stayed the night, holding Mary close to him. Mary could never hate him, but he had lost tremendous favor in her sight with his actions over the past months. Even so, for a few fleeting moments, Mary could remember the happy moments she spent with Francis, and how she would never have dreamed they would end up where they are now.

* * *

Thankfully, Mary's morning sickness paled in comparison to the anguish Kenna was experiencing. Over the next two weeks, Mary could count on the one hand the number of times she had been sick. Kenna, however, stayed bed-ridden. She helped Lola and Greer tend to Kenna, for no matter how much or how often she was sick, Kenna needed to protect her growing child. Lola jumped at the opportunity to play nursemaid. Years ago, she had tended to her brothers, though their illness was fatal. In more recent memory, she had lent a hand to Nostradamus when Sebastian had been gravely injured. The wound in his side nearly killed him.

Lola winced. She thought back on her time with Sebastian, and realized her initial affection for him was lit then. Ever since, she had tried, inconspicuously, to gather his attention. Had she known he only had eyes for Mary, she would have put her efforts in other directions. But alas, the past was the past, and Lola enjoyed the attention she was currently receiving from a different direction.

"Lola, did you hear me?" Mary's voice cut through her thoughts. She realized she been absently stirring the wine remedy she had been preparing for Lola. Her tutelage under Nostradamus was already proving to be beneficial.

"Oh, yes, sorry. Here Kenna, please drink this. I promise it will help calm your nerves." Mary's eyes followed Lola's movements. She was impressed with all her lady had learned from Nostradamus. Even after Lady Agnes had gifted Mary the tea for any nausea she had, she had given most of it to Kenna. Now they relied on Lola's knowledge. Mary decided to test the waters.

"Nostradamus is teaching you well it seems." Mary and Lola's eyes met, and Mary could catch the hint of amusement twinkling there.

"Yes, he is." Lola whispered, eying Greer and Kenna cautiously.

"Would you two hush, all this chatter is making my head spin." Kenna exclaimed, a bit over-dramatically. Mary bit back a chuckle, watching Lola do the same. Mary was exceedingly glad tensions between Lola and herself had eased over the past few weeks. Part of her feared Lola might never speak to her again. But Lola held a sort of power over Mary, being the only person who knew her secret.

Aylee entered the room, rushing over to Mary's side. She looked anxious, and Mary hoped that was not a bad sign. Aylee tended to think the worst in most situations.

"Mary, I need to speak with you." Mary made a quick excuse to Kenna, leaving Lola and Greer at her side.

"What is it, Aylee? You look a bit peaked."

"Mary, I overhead the domestics talking in your room earlier. The women have noticed they have not washed any of your monthly linens in over two months. They are speculating you are with child." Mary's eyes widened, not having thought about this complication. She pulled Aylee a little farther away from the others, and leaned in to her friend.

"Aylee, I am with child. I have not been publicly speaking about it, as I have not told Francis yet. I wanted it to be an Epiphany surprise for him." Aylee squealed, spinning around and grabbing Mary's hands in excitement.

"Oh Mary, I am so happy for you! But if the servants are starting to gossip, can you wait that long to tell him?" Concern for her friend was clearly etched across Aylee's face, as Epiphany was still over a fortnight away.

"No, I cannot." Mary frowned. If word was getting around the servants of a possible royal heir, she would need to personally tell Sebastian and Francis quickly.

"Oh, and Mary, someone dropped by your chambers earlier with a package. They said it was something you requested?"

_Perfect timing,_ Mary thought. Her gifts for Sebastian and Francis were finished ahead of schedule, and now that she was forced to reveal her condition sooner than she originally intended, she could still carry out her original plan.

"Oh yes, I had several specialty gifts made. Thank you for telling me." Mary hesitated, before turning back to Aylee. "Aylee, I must ask that you to keep this is in your strictest confidence right now. I have not told a soul, not even Greer or Kenna."

"Of course, Mary. I will do as you wish."

"Thank you, my sweet friend. Listen, I need to take my leave of Kenna for a moment. Do you mind helping Greer and Lola?" Aylee happily agreed, and easily joined the ladies taking care of a very demanding Kenna.

Mary wanted to slip away to her chambers to see her gifts. She hoped she could find a moment later in the evening, to at least give the one to Sebastian. She could tell Francis tomorrow.

* * *

Though it had been two weeks since she had been with Francis, she had spent a handful of nights with Sebastian. She knew it was considered a sin to lay with a man while with child, but Mary knew she had to keep up pretenses, at least for a short while until she could tell him. However, Mary also knew many women did it anyway.

After spending those night with Sebastian, she decided it must definitely be a sin. Every touch, every kiss, and every caress felt magnified. She could get used to the increased sensations. Tonight, however, she did not intend to seek this type of comfort from Sebastian. Her gift, neatly wrapped, sat on the table in front of her on the table. She was dressed for bed, and even though she sat in front of the fire, she needed the warmth of her furs to fight the chill.

She had briefly chatted with Sebastian earlier in the day, and she indicated she wanted his presence in her chambers later. Always the gentleman, he had raised her hands, kissing her white knuckles, and murmured, "I am always at your command."

The secret door to her chamber slowly creaked open.

"There you are." Mary gently prodded. "I was beginning to think you had deserted me." Sebastian knew the teasing tone in her voice.

"Desert you? Never!" He stomped a foot in mock anger and Mary giggled happily.

"Come sit, Bash. I have something for you." She motioned to the seat next to her, and he sat reaching for Mary in the process. She moved herself over to sit in his lap, pressing her lips to his sweetly.

"I wanted to save this for Epiphany, but I decided you needed to open it before then." She handled the small package, neatly tied with a small piece of twine.

"Mary, you did not need to get me a gift." He whispered against her hair, kissing her lightly before retrieving the package from Mary's outstretched hands.

He pulled on the twine, loosening the bow and pushing it off the small box. Lifting the lid, he peered inside the dark interior. Laying on a small piece of white sating was a small silver item. On the end, a small round ball of coral. He picked it up carefully, noting the sound it made as he moved it in his hands. Attached to the coral ball was a handle of silver with a small open loop at the bottom. Sebastian had a difficult handling the small item, thinking it would be best suited for smaller hands.

_Smaller hands, like baby hands,_ he thought.

Mary watched Sebastian wearily, hoping for a positive reaction to the custom baby rattle. She watched him gently turn the rattle over, inspecting it. She desperately hoped he would understand the meaning of the item.

"The suspense is beyond me, Bash. Please tell me what you think." Sebastian gripped the rattle carefully, his gaze piercing Mary to her soul.

"This is really a gift for a small child. I am unsure what you are suggesting with this gift, unless you consider me a child." The last bit of his statement was laced with Sebastian's typical sarcasm, otherwise Mary might have been offended. She smiled warmly at his upturned face, cupping her hands around his cheeks and placing a chaste, but solid kiss on his mouth.

"You are silly, my sweet Bash. It is a toy for a child, because I am with child." Comprehension finally dawned across his face, his eyes widening and his mouth opening in a gasp.

"But I thought you said..."

"I thought so, but I believe your assessment of the situation might have been the more correct version." Sebastian remembered suggesting to Mary that Francis might be the reason behind their infertility, and not her.

"The child is mine?" Sebastian had not dared hope he would ever have the right to be a father. He had killed a man who was a father. What right to a child did he have? But in this instance? This was magnificent in his eyes.

"Heavens yes, Bash. You will be a father." Mary hesitated before adding a bit she knew Sebastian needed to hear. "I must tell you, thought, that I lay with Francis recently. I have known for several weeks now about my condition, but I was waiting to tell you. But I also needed to find a way of convincing Francis. I needed to lay with him again to assure he would have no doubts."

"I understand, Mary. He is your husband." Sebastian knew this meant the child would be raised by Francis, as Francis' heir, be it a son or daughter. "I will be honored to be able to see him grow up. It is as much as I can ask."

Sebastian never cried, but Mary thought she might see the glisten of moisture around those beautiful eyes. She hated the words he just spoke. Sebastian could never be the child's father, no matter how much either of them wanted it to be true. The one thing that reassured Mary was this child would be heir to France, and Scotland. They would be treated with every respect and honor awarded to someone of that station. And she could not be more thrilled.

"Are you happy?" She whispered. He had not spoken for several minutes.

"I am overwhelmed, and overjoyed. I love you so much, Mary." Though he showed his love and devotion almost every minute of every day, he had never spoken the words to Mary. Her heart soared looking at the man in front of her eyes. A man whom she called brother, and friend. A man that wore the name 'lover' with every endeavor. And a man she would soon have the privilege of calling father.

"And I love you, Bash. There will be many details we will need to work out in the morning, including the fact I still have not told Francis."

"You have not told him?" Worry lines appeared across Sebastian's face, creasing his forehead.

"No, because I needed to tell you first." He kissed her then, tracing his fingers down her cheek, over her jaw, and stopped on her neck. His fingers combed gently through her hair, and Mary closed her eyes.

"Thank you." His words were barely audible, but Mary knew her simple gesture had touched him deeply. He stood to his feet, keeping Mary in his arms. Placing her more gently on the covers than he might have any other night, for she was now so much more fragile in his eyes, he climbed up beside her. He could not wait to settle in beside her and wrap his arms around her waist. He wanted to opportunity to place his hands on her belly, and imagine the child growing beneath the surface.

He did just that, enjoying the feel of Mary pressed against his chest, and his hands protectively encasing his family. Sleep evaded Sebastian that night, and for once in his life, he did not mind.

* * *

Queen Catherine worriedly paced in chambers. The news from England was not to her liking. Queen Mary had died, in fact almost within a day or two of the English Ambassador's visit notifying them of her imminent passing. Now Elizabeth, Henry VIII's bastard by that whore, Anne Boleyn, was going to take the throne. A bastard cannot and should never take the throne.

If this became the trend across Europe then what would prevent Henry from passing a legal law naming Sebastian as his true son and heir? Heaven knew, the crazy Portuguese had attempted it with Tomas. His untimely death precluded the rest of the world from seeing just how many countries were letting these once hidden children make names of themselves.

_I will have to protect Francis at all costs,_ Catherine thought. Her only problem was how.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your support! You all are AMAZING! 
> 
> Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More.
> 
> Chapter 10 Music: Peace Train by Cat Stevens
> 
> Now I've been happy lately, thinking about the good things to come / And I believe it could be, something good has begun  
> Oh I've been smiling lately, dreaming about the world as one / And I believe it could be, some day it's going to come
> 
> Cause out on the edge of darkness, there rides a peace train / Oh peace train take this country, come take me home again
> 
> Now I've been smiling lately, thinking about the good things to come / And I believe it could be, something good has begun
> 
> Oh peace train sounding louder / Glide on the peace train  
> Come on now peace train / Yes, peace train holy roller
> 
> Everyone jump upon the peace train / Come on now peace train

Rarely did Henry and Catherine like to occupy the same space, but today it was inevitable. They had received word the evening prior that Mary Tudor had in fact passed away, and how just before her she died she reluctantly accepted the fact her half-sister, Elizabeth, would be her successor. The pomp and circumstance of Elizabeth's coronation would take place at the end of January, and Henry had every intention of attending.

"I plan on leaving for England shortly after Epiphany to pay my respects to the new Queen, and possibly bridge a new friendship with England." The matter-of-fact sentimentality proved to Catherine that Henry was most sincere is his statement.

"Honor that bastard? Really, Henry." The eye roll Henry displayed was almost audible.

"What bothers you most? That she is common in your eyes, or that she is competition for Mary, and therefore Francis, for the English throne? Who knows, she might pass away early too, and Mary would ascend the throne. She could restore the rightful Catholic church to it's place in England. Heaven knows this new Queen will likely destroy it."

Their once loving relationship had definitely reduced over the years to a mere amiability towards each other. Even so, he still knew her thoughts so well. Catherine inwardly smiled at that fact.

"Both."

"Well then, do not worry, my dear. I plan to take Francis with me. He must learn true diplomacy sometime."

The wheels in Catherine's mind began to spin like the well-oiled machine they were. Henry and Francis would both be absent from the castle.

"How long to do plan to be gone?"

"Several weeks, most likely."

"Do you plan to take most of the guard with you?" Catherine hoped her line of questions would not appear suspicious.

"What is with the inquisition, woman? Did you have plans for them?"

Check.

"Of course not, Henry. I just remember what happened the last time you left the castle for an extended period of time." Catherine hesitated to think back on the siege by the disgusting Lord Vincent. She hated to think she had resorted to poisoning her former countrymen; however, the situation had called for extreme measures.

"Ah, yes. Well, I will leave a small number more than I usually do, just in case any rogue Italian Lord decides to make siege on my castle." Catherine did not appreciate his mocking tone. Catherine nodded her thanks, absently staring out the window in the process.

"Sebastian will stay here too. I was going to invite him, but I foresee this feisty new Queen might take offense, being as he is another bastard _not_ in line for a throne. At least not yet." Catherine bristled at these words. Henry liked to push her buttons, but this last statement troubled her greatly.

Check mate.

"I am sure that will make us all feel at ease." Henry could taste the sarcasm dripping off her words, but remained unmoved. After all, he had put up with Catherine for more years than any man should. He looked over at the woman he called his wife, and outstretched a hand in peace offering.

"Come, let us tell the news to the court."

Catherine obediently took her husband's hand, and followed him out of his chambers.

* * *

Lola struggled to keep up with Nostradamus' lesson today. Her mind was elsewhere, unfortunately. She has known for a fortnight now that Mary was with child, but the knowledge that the child was Sebastian's drove a stake through her heart. The pain was partly due to a lingering sense of lost love. Though Lola's affections for Nostradamus continued to grow, she was still healing from a broken heart. Most of the pain, however, surfaced when Lola thought about the consequences if the truth be told. Not only for Mary, who could be charged with treason, but Sebastian, and herself. She could be seen as aiding in treason. _No one will ever know_ , she always told herself. Even if the child were to resemble his true father, the brother's shared at least a partial parentage, and a minimal likeness would not be cause for worry.

"Lola, I need you to mix two parts lavender in ..." He looked up, noting her distant gaze. "What is wrong?"

"I am worried about Mary, and the baby." Lola gasped, her hands covering her face in embarrassment. The child was not public knowledge yet.

"Do not worry, I already know about the child." He pointed towards his head to indicate he had seen him in a vision.

"You have? What does the child look like? Is it a boy or girl? Oh do tell me, please." Lola's enthusiasm ran over her sense of decorum. Looking about, Nostradamus moved to close his door, then pulled Lola over to the secluded corner nearest the window.

"The child is a boy, a prince. But before I continue, there is something I need to tell you."

"The Queen already knows this vision, does she not?"

"Yes, but for reasons you would not dare to dream. I cannot divulge the entire vision, nor did I to Queen Catherine, but I need to tell you this..."

Lola's eyes widened as the words flowed hurriedly from Nostradamus' mouth. The Queen's deviousness reached new levels in Lola's eyes. She would have to find time to tell Mary and soon.

* * *

Mary found Francis the next morning, on his way to the Great Hall to speak with his father. The burden of keeping the news of her condition had been lifted the previous evening. She relished in the joy of telling Sebastian he would be a father. Unfortunately, she now had to tell the man who would act as the father. _Francis should be a good father_ , Mary thought. As if on cue, Francis rounded the corner to the Great Hall at full speed.

"Mary!" He exclaimed. "Good, we are late. Father has substantial news for us this morning." Francis gently grabbed her forearm, dragging a reluctant Mary behind him.

"Francis, wait." Mary hesitated, attempting to slow him down. He beckoned her onward, not slowing his pace. Finally, Mary grasped his arm and with all her strength, pulled him to a stop. "Francis, please stop."

"Come on, Mary. This news will affect you too." Francis had rolled his eyes initially when she had stopped him. _He better learn patience if he is going to be a father_ , Mary thought and then amended, _When he will be a father._

"Francis, I have news myself that I must share with you before we enter."

"Fine." Francis sighed with a huff. "Make it quick."

Mary cringed at his indifference to her needs. It was just one of the many reasons her love for him had waned.

"Francis, do not be angry with me for stopping you. This is news we will want to share immediately." At these words, Francis' ears perked up, and his eyes gazed curiously at Mary. "You see, Francis, I am with child."

The stunned silence was not very reassuring to Mary, until Francis let out a very undignified whoop of joy. Before Mary knew what was happening, she was in his arms, being twirled around. His reaction pleased Mary, but the spinning left her a bit dizzy and nauseous.

"Francis, please slow down. My stomach is a bit sensitive." She chose to say this laughingly, to not hurt Francis' feelings. It was such a rare thing to be in his presence lately, and be happy.

"Oh, good Heavens, Mary. What was I thinking?" He smiled lovingly at her, for the first time in awhile. Gently cupping her face, he kissed her fiercely. "This is wonderful, Mary. Thank you." He held her in his arms, hugging her close. On another day, in a different place, Mary would have been infinitely happy right in this moment. But now, while she was happy that Francis was excited for the news, she inwardly cringed. She had lied to the man she had made a vow to love for the rest of her life. Granted, he had not kept those vows either, but Mary had always assumed she would be the one taking the higher road. For Mary, there was no turning back from her path, from Sebastian, from their child, and nor did she want too. Still in Francis' arms, Mary looked upwards, as if to heaven. _I love Sebastian. God forgive me, but I do._ She hesitated before adding, _God forgive us both._

* * *

After a few moments of relishing in their happy news, Francis tugged Mary into the Great Hall, anxious to tell the King and Queen, and the rest of the court.

"Ah, Francis, there you are! Now we can begin..."

"Wait, Mary and I have an important announcement first." Francis rarely interrupted his father, but this was a most opportune time. "Your Majesties, I am proud to announce Mary is with child. Please join us in our happiness." Collective gasps and claps of joy rung out around the Hall. Mary was overwhelmed by the noise, and the court's response. She knew Sebastian should be somewhere in the crowd, but she did not want to meet his gaze. Though he never displayed emotions of jealousy, she understood that deep down, he would want to be the one announcing her child, _his child_ , their child's, expected birth. Mary secretly rued the day she was born to be a Queen. If she had been born to some privilege, as Greer, or Lola, or Aylee had been, or even none at all, a relationship with Sebastian _might_ be possible. He was the son of King. But looking upon the adoring faces of the court around, she could only imagine the horror, betrayal, and disgust if they only knew the truth.

"This is great news indeed!" Henry bellowed. "Page! Come, send word to the Cardinal. The cathedral bells should be rung throughout the countryside, and a special mass be read in Mary's honor!"

Catherine was elated. She eagerly joined in the celebrations as many came forward to congratulate the royal couple. _My plan worked_ , she thought, _oh happy day._

The King raised his hand to summon silence across the hall. "While this is joyous news, I must impart some additional news of interest." The court settled down as Henry continued. "Mary Tudor has died, and in her last dying moments, she acknowledged her half-sister, Elizabeth, as her successor."

The gasps of joy for Mary and Francis' news turned into gasps of surprise, and in some cases, horror.

"Her coronation takes place at the end of January, and I intend on being part of the audience. I am sure it will be a grand affair. Francis, you will accompany me to the meet the new Queen. She may prove to be a potential ally, or a horrible foe."

"But with Mary's news, I would prefer to stay close to the castle." For a moment, Mary was touched by the sudden emotional sentiment expressed by her husband.

"Oh come now, Francis. Women have carried children for ages. Besides, I have already promised your mother a few extra guard."

Francis nodded quickly in defeat. This was more like the Francis she knew. In her first days back at the French court, Francis exuded power, strength, and determination in standing against several of his parent's decisions. But as their relationship grew and changed to marriage, he seemed to lose his fire. Throughout his discourse with his father, Mary remained silent and contemplative. Her cousin was now Queen of England, a throne, believed by some, to rightfully belong to Mary. Elizabeth was also a Protestant, thanks to her mother's sympathetic religious leanings. She was known to be a cunning and brilliant young woman. Mary hoped, amongst all things, that she could have an amiable relationship with her cousin, especially with regards to Scotland. But now, Mary was not just protecting her homeland for herself, she was guarding her country for her child to one day rule.

* * *

It had been over a week since the news of Mary's condition had been announced. Bells rung out across the country honoring Mary and Francis and their unborn child. Many changes were occurring, and quite rapidly, around the French court. Diane de Poitiers nervously waited for Sebastian to return to his chambers, as she needed to urgently speak with him. The minutes passed slowly before the click of the door announced his arrival.

Sebastian stopped in his tracks, noting he was not alone in his chambers. His initial fear subsided as he realized it was his mother seated by the fire.

"So you finally made use of the key I provided you?" Diane turned her head and smiled at her only son. Sebastian tossed his sword on his bed, eager to rid himself of his royal attire.

"I had not need of it until today." She replied softly, standing to walk closer to her son. She looked at his handsome face, proud of the man he had become. Though her aspirations reached higher than Sebastian knew, she was still thrilled with all he had accomplished in his young life. Being a son of a King held it's perks, but it also presented many dangers.

"What brings you here? You look worried." He noted his mother's eyes darted abruptly around the room, as if on constant alert for danger.

"There have been rumors around the court, especially amongst the guard." Diane started, watching Sebastian's reaction. He momentarily paled, concerned over the 'rumors' which she had been hearing, but immediately fixed his features into a look of indifference.

"Oh?" Sebastian could muster no more words than the one.

"Queen Catherine has been acting strangely lately, ever since the announcement that Henry and Francis would leave for England soon. What I have heard concerns me greatly. There is talk she has been meeting mercenaries in secret." Sebastian frowned at this revelation. Hiring a mercenary could only mean one thing in his mind.

"She is hiring an assassin? For who?" He dropped his words to a whisper, his heart racing furiously. Catherine was crazy, and could harm anyone, except her own children, if she needed too. Sebastian even wondered if she might harm Francis, or Charles even, if push came to shove.

"I do not know anymore than that, but I am worried for all of us. She is using Henry and Francis' departure to meet her ends."

"Do you think she would try and kill Mary and the child?" Uttering those words were unbearable for Sebastian. He would kill Catherine himself before she could lay a hand on Mary or his baby.

"Either Mary, or possibly you. I think she feels threatened now that Elizabeth has the throne in England. A bastard-born daughter on the throne." Sebastian knew his mother implied that Catherine would now consider him a threat, a son who might upstage her own.

"She will never harm my family." The words had left his mouth before he realized their true meaning. Diane raised her eyebrows at her son. Dropping his gaze, he turned away from his mother's intense stare. He knew she had seen right through him, as always.

"Your family? My son, I know you are brave, but are you truly this foolish?" Her mind was racing as she walked around to face him. Diane reached for his hands, hands she had held since they were smaller than the palm of her own hand. They were rougher now, but they still held that same gentle quality. "Are you...is the child..." She could not find the words that would not have a treasonous meaning.

"I cannot answer, no matter what you ask. Take my silence as you will." He leaned in, gently kissing his mother on the forehead.

"Be careful, my son. You are my one and only child. I may have lost Henry, but I could not bear losing you too." A single tear escaped down her cheek.

"I always am."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all are AMAZING! Thank you so much! Please check out my newest Reign one-shot, 'To Eternity' as well. It's separate from 'A Man for All Seasons'.
> 
> Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More.
> 
> Chapter 11 Music: Not Gonna Die by Skillet (I consider this a must listen to for this chapter BUT if you do, you need to start at minute 4:00 of Good to Be Alive by Skillet ... the interlude between songs is fantastic!)
> 
> Interlude (end of Good to Be Alive):
> 
> Despair! You come to me / With your poison and your misery  
> Oh, death! You come to sting / With your poison and your misery
> 
> [choir]  
> Death! Death! Death! Death!  
> Death surrounds me! Singing to me softly! / Death, its shadows! Spreads its wings around me!  
> In the night, close your eyes, or it will come! (Death, death, comes, it will come)  
> This is how it feels when you're bent and broken / This is how it feels when your dignity is stolen (singing to me softly)  
> In the night, close your eyes, or it will come! (Death, death, comes, it will come)  
> Creeping in the shadows, Creeping in my mind  
> Death! Death! / Don't close your eyes!

The Twelfth Night feast arrived quicker than Mary deemed possible. Though now eating for two, Mary tried not to indulge her appetite, for many of the foods being served did not sound appealing to her changing body. It was also the fact Francis insisted on tasting every bit of her food himself. Ever since she told Francis the news, he began to hover. He did not want her to walk too far, or dance too much, or do anything that might upset her delicate balance.

Mary was going stir crazy.

It also meant her time with Sebastian was limited. She was eagerly anticipating Francis' trip to England with his father. They would leave in two days, and it could not arrive soon enough. Mary was counting the hours until she could happily flee into Sebastian's waiting arms.

* * *

The following day's Epiphany mass was spectacular. It was a truly regal event. Though Mary had gifted the custom-made rattle to Sebastian weeks before, she saved the one for Francis until after the mass. The royal version was studded in precious jewels, though the coral ball at the end matched it's more homely counterpart.

Francis was thrilled at Mary's thoughtfulness. He showed it to everyone, much to Mary's dismay. Francis could be lovingly selfish to a fault.

Francis visited her unexpectedly that night, only asking to hold her and their child close before he left. She cringed when he mentioned _their_ child, but hoped he would not detect her lack of enthusiasm. It still saddened her to deceive Francis, for he truly seemed eager to be a father.

"Are you sure you are okay with me leaving for England? I can stay if you like." Mary jumped as she spoke, thinking he had fallen asleep awhile ago.

"Yes, Francis, I will be fine. I think it will be good for you to go and meet the new Queen. After all, we may be enemies one day."

"True indeed. Maybe this visit will help France start anew with England." He continued to prattle on, and Mary easily feel asleep to his continually talking. She tried to envision it was Sebastian's arms around her, but they were not the same.

In less than a day, she could really have his arms around her if she wanted.

* * *

Mary tried to wait a full two days before visiting Sebastian. Maybe it was the guilt she felt for deceiving Francis causing her to delay. Or maybe it was the sudden nightmares. Nightmares that included Mary covered in blood, _Sebastian's blood_ , that kept her away. Either way, by the end of the second full day, she had lost all resolve, and fled eagerly down the secret passage to his chambers.

She continued the same pattern every evening for two weeks, waiting until her ladies were gone and hopefully fast asleep before sweeping her robe around her shoulders, gently opening the secret door, and disappearing into the castle depths.

* * *

By the end of those two weeks, Mary had grown accustomed to her evening ventures. When Francis and King Henry returned, she knew it would be difficult to resume her previous lifestyle. She laid comfortably in Sebastian's bed, ensconced warmly within the sheets and his arms. The glow from the fire cast a reddish hue on Mary's already pinkened skin. Her eyes followed the flames as they rose and fell, dancing eerily amongst the wood. For a brief moment, Mary felt the flames rise up and surround her, choking her breath and stinging her eyes. But then she remembered only heretics were burned. The cost of treason was a sharp axe, and not a fiery post. Even with the joyous Twelfth Night and Epiphany celebrations, Mary's mind continually went to the worst case scenario. Her hands went protectively to her belly, slightly swollen now. She knew her morbid thoughts stemmed from her maternal instincts beginning to surface. Sighing, she wished she could just enjoy this moment. She wanted to relax in the comfort of Sebastian's arms, the feel of his skin against hers, and the way he hummed softly in her ear, his hand caressing her slightly swollen belly. She snuggled back further against his chest, wiggling her hips as she sought his warmth. Her body trembled as a deep chuckle escaped him.

"Honestly, Mary. Again?" His lips skimmed her bared shoulder, his breath tingling the sensitive skin. "Not that I am complaining, really."

"No, Bash, I am exhausted. I am trying not to lose this memory of us, here, together in this moment." She hesitated, afraid to continue on. "Deep inside, I feel you slipping away." Sebastian raised himself up on an elbow, looking over Mary's back towards her hidden face. She rolled onto her back to gaze up at him. Though she smiled, the lines of worry etched themselves across her features.

"Mary, I am not leaving you. No. Never would I leave you." His free arm gripped her exposed one, soothingly stroking her shoulder bone with his thumb. Mary refused to meet his gaze, but glanced back at the fire. "Something is troubling you, what is it?"

Mary reached her arm around Sebastian's back, pulling him down and flush against her. Hooking her leg around his hip, it was as if she was trying to merge them into one person.

"I know we have become one in the carnal sense, but I do not think we can actually become one person. I do enjoy you trying though." Sebastian aided in her efforts, pushing his hands in to the small of her back, careful to not push her growing belly to roughly against him.

"I cannot put into words what is bothering me. Maybe my maternal instincts are surfacing, but I want to protect you, keep you safe, from something hiding in the shadows."

"Now you are beginning to sound like Nostradamus. Has my child effected you in such a way?"

Mary smiled up at her lover, feeling the heat and need rise within her again at his acknowledgment of their child. She blushed in remembrance of the actions that created this child. The same actions she knew she would be indulging in again shortly. She had given up the thought of not laying with Sebastian while carrying his child. _If only the nuns could see me now,_ Mary thought, inwardly laughing.

"Your child has effected me in the best way possible." She abruptly captured his lips with hers, a hand sneaking down to roughly dig her nails into his hip. Refusing to break their contact, he rolled them over, moving carefully over their child. Her legs parted automatically, framing his hips with her thighs, as her lips sought his desperately. She heard her name whispered huskily as he braced his weight above her, ready to begin their timeless dance.

"Dear God, Sebastian."

He protectively dropped his body to cover Mary's, his head whipping around to his now open door. Diane stood in the doorway, her eyes wide in shock. She hastily shut his door, locking it in the process. She glanced back at her son before averting her eyes to the ceiling. Catching her son in the throes of passion was not what she had expected of the evening. It was hard not to glance back towards his bed, watching as he carefully maneuvered off the dark-haired beauty whom Diane thought she knew.

"Please do not bother attempting to hide your identity Mary, I know it is you." The movement from the bed was sudden, as Mary sat up to stare at Diane, holding the sheets protectively to her chest. Sebastian sat up beside Mary, his head hung in defeat. The questioning look Mary shot Sebastian reminded Diane she had a voice. "Do not blame Sebastian, Mary, he never said a word to me. I am his mother. There are some things I just know."

"Why are you here, mother?" Diane knew her son was irritated by the sound of his voice, but she had not the time to worry. He needed to act, and act quickly.

"Not to interrupt this sordid affair, that was not my intention. Though I must say, Sebastian, must you really defile a pregnant woman?" Sebastian made to leave the bed when Mary placed a stopping arm in front of him.

"There is no defiling going on, Diane. He was doing nothing that I did not ask him too. But you have come with bad news, have you not? I sense a change in the air." Mary whispered, tilting her head questioningly at Diane.

"You are perceptive, Mary. Yes, I am hear to tell you, my dear son, you must leave tonight." Diane now approached Sebastian, reaching a hand tentatively towards his arm. "I beg of you, leave within the hour. I have it on good authority the Queen's mercenaries are being told to hunt you down and kill you, tonight. You have an hour, maybe less."

"What? The guards will not allow mercenaries to act within their walls." Sebastian now stood, his nakedness not a hindrance to him.

"They have been told to not interfere, on pain of potential poisoning should they attempt to stop them. You must pack your things and leave now. Leave the castle. Leave France."

"Leave France? You cannot be serious!" Though he did not plan to leave, Sebastian began gathering his clothes, pulling his trousers on.

"Why do you frighten him so? If Catherine really planned to kill Bash, Henry will know as soon as he returns and her life will be forfeit." Mary finally spoke, rising herself from the bed and wrapping her robe around herself.

"The guards do not know the mercenaries plans, only to let them be. If Bash were to disappear, no one would know. Especially if another body is randomly found murdered, it would be suspected they were the mercenaries intended victim. Catherine has this well planned. She fears Sebastian will overthrow Francis, and will do anything, including murder, to make sure that never happens. But enough of this talking, you must leave my son."

"And go where? You said out of France, but where would that be?" Sebastian was now fully dressed, his sword already wrapped around his waist.

"Anywhere, just away from here."

Mary turned toward the door as the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall. As Diane's words began to sink in, Mary fought to suppress the panic rising inside. _Where could he go? Where could he go?_

"Scotland. Go to Scotland. You can seek political asylum from my mother." Mary started around the bed, moving towards the secret door that she had used earlier in the night when she first sought Sebastian's company. "Come, let us to my chambers. I need to write my mother a quick note of explanation. You will need my signet ring as well."

He grabbed her arm while she opened the door, giving Mary a moment's pause. "Do you really want me to leave? I will fight."

A tear escaped Mary's eye as she looked at Bash's face. Just a few minutes earlier they were thoroughly enjoying each others' company. Now, his life was in imminent danger.

"No, but you must if it will save your life." She roughly grabbed his hand, placing it gently on the small swell of her stomach. "This child need you. I need you. Alive."

"Then to Scotland I will go."

* * *

They raced down the hidden passageways. Mary jumped at any sound that was not created by their six feet. She prayed her ladies were already asleep so that her room would be vacant. As she cautiously opened the door, she realized her prayer had been answered. There was not a soul in sight.

Running to her desk, Mary quickly wrote a note of explanation to her mother. _Please take care of this man. He is most precious to me, and his life is in danger._ Mary added a few additional words, before sealing the note with her personal crest. Reaching behind the desk, she fiddled with a few knobs before finding the one which released a tiny door on the right side. Pulling it open, Mary grabbed her second signet ring. She had had an additional one made for such a situation. Though she never dreamed she would be sending it with Sebastian, hoping her mother would believe his story and take him under her protection.

"Here, take these. My mother will understand." She thrust them in Sebastian's waiting hands. She turned away from him, the tears now flowing uncontrollably. He appeared in front of her, pulling her shaking body into his arms.

"Mary, I love you. I will always love you. Take care of my child. I promise to see you soon." Mary felt her hands grasp frantically at his jacket, pulling him downwards until she could look him directly in the face.

"I love you, Bash. As your Queen, I order you to come back to me." She held his gaze, begging him to see the pain she felt.

"I will, Mary. I have no intention of dying tonight."

She kissed him with all the might she could muster. Her hands feverishly held his face. They could both taste her salty tears.

"Go now, before I order you to stay with me." She whispered, kissing him gently one last time. He held her a moment longer, before leaving her standing there alone and cold. Stopping in front of Diane, he gave his mother a brief hug, exchanging no words as none were needed. Glancing behind her, Mary caught his eyes one last time before he closed the secret passageway door.

She ran to her window that overlooked the castle entrance. The minutes ticked by agonizingly slow as she waited to see his figure. When she saw the hooded man appear, she knew it was him. Even in the darkness, his movements were graceful and skillfully planned. She lost sight of him when he entered the stables, but only a few minutes later he appeared leading a horse. Her fingers clawed at her windows, leaving trails in the condensation. She wanted to watch his figure until she could see him no longer.

Diane's arms pulled her away from the window when the sobs threatened to topple Mary over. She cried endlessly into Diane's shoulder, not caring that she never really liked the woman, even though she was Sebastian's mother.

Mary could barely hear the next words Diane uttered, as her own cries filled her ears.

"Sebastian has never broken a promise. Take care of his child. He will come back to you."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You think the last chapter was crazy, just hold your horses! I am utterly amazed with all the positive reviews. Thank you so much! If you haven't already, please check out my newest Reign one-shot, 'To Eternity', or my in-progress story 'Cursum Perficio' for Snow White and the Hunstman!
> 
> Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More.
> 
> Chapter 12 Music: Seven Devils by Florence + the Machine
> 
> Holy water cannot help you now / Thousand armies couldn't keep me out  
> I don't want your money / I don't want your crown  
> See I've come to burn your kingdom down
> 
> Seven devils all around me!  
> Seven devils in my house!  
> See they were there when I woke up this morning  
> I'll be dead before the day is done

After what had been a busy day, Lola found sleep to be evasive. She did, however, find comfort in the arms engulfing her frame, for due to their difference in height, his arms easily consumed her silhouette. It was a difficult situation to be in for Lola, now loving a man whom her family might despise. He had no fortune or title; his fame was debatable, for whether he was famous or infamous was in the eye of the beholder. Greer had once said Mary and her ladies might never go home, and Lola was beginning to believe that thought to be true. Therefore, why not indulge in a love that was honest, true, and caring?

As if he knew she was thinking about him, Nostradamus' arm tightened its hold on Lola. She stiffened when she felt his body go rigid, knowing he was not protectively grasping her in his sleep. Instead, he was a fighting a vision that was threatening to overwhelm him. She had grown accustomed to how he reacted, physically and emotionally, to the onset of his visions. She held his hand tightly, waiting for his body to go slack before awakening him, if he was not already. Turning to face him, Lola carefully placed her hands on either side of his face. He blinked rapidly, his eyes darting about as if unaware of his surroundings. Upon locking gazes with Lola, his eyes widened, and he roughly grabbed the wrists that sweetly cupped his face.

"Go to Mary, and hurry." Nostradamus said through panted breath. His forehead was covered in sweat, as was his chest. Worry began to creep within Lola's mind.

"What did you see? What has happened to Mary?" Lola could hear her frantic voice raising several octaves in fear.

"No, not Mary. It is Sebastian. She will try and kill him tonight."

"She? Who? What should I do?" Lola laid subdued, not daring any sudden movements. Her mind was rapidly trying to process his vision. _Mary. Sebastian. Oh no,_ she thought.

"Go to Mary. She must warn Sebastian, if it is not already too late." He pushed her hands away, nodding towards the door. Lola nodded, reaching in for a brief, chaste kiss before grabbing her robe and wrapping it swiftly around her arms. She did not bother with shoes, and her bare feet barely made a sound as she quickly made her way out the door.

Nostradamus sat up in his small bed, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his temples. He could still see the blood as he closed his eyes. _So much blood._ And the battered body, bearing the small lion pendant necklace Sebastian kept hidden under his shirt. The beginning of his vision had been clear, but the ending, the body and blood, was so disconnected from the beginning. Nostradamus was unsure they referred to the same thing. Was he too late, and would he see the blood from his vision splattered on the walls of Sebastian's chambers? Or Mary's?

He had often thought God had cursed him with these visions, but tonight he prayed his visions were wrong. For once.

* * *

Lola swept into Mary's chambers, taken aback to find Mary crying within Diane de Poitiers' arms. _Oh no, am I too late?_ She thought.

"Mary? Mary, what has happened?" Lola approached the two women, unsure how to begin now that Diane was here too. Mary displaced herself from Diane's grasp, hobbling over to Lola and hugging her friend close. Mary was an obvious wreck, but Lola needed to voice Nostradamus' warning. "Mary, I come with a warning for Nostradamus. Sebastian..."

"He is gone." Mary whimpered, slowly sinking to the floor. Lola helped Mary sit, keeping an arm around Mary's sobbing body. "They were going to kill him."

"What? You knew? Nostradamus just had his vision..." Mary looked up at her friend, as if just realizing she was there. "Nostradamus just sent me to tell you that you must warn Sebastian. What has happened, Mary?"

"Oh, Lola, Sebastian's life was threatened by the Queen. Diane received word that the mercenaries would come after him tonight, to kill him." Mary stopped to breath, her words spilling frantically from her mouth. "He...he left. He had to flee for his life." Tears overtook Mary again, as she crumpled against her friend. For the sake of her child, she tried to get a grip on her emotions. _He will come back. He will come back._ Mary chanted to herself.

"Why would Catherine have him killed?" Lola rubbed circles across Mary's back, attempting to help Mary calm down.

"Now that my cousin Elizabeth has the throne in England, she thinks Sebastian will attempt to overthrow Francis." The tremors throughout Mary's body were starting to soften, and her breathing even out. "If she took anytime to know her husband's son, she would know he has no interest in the throne."

Mary's eyes tried to trace the floral designs as they weaved within the floor rug. She needed something, anything, to take her mind off of thinking of Sebastian. No, not thinking _about_ him; she did not want to keep thinking about him _dead._ Mary was content to sit in silence, her mind loosely naming the flowers on the rug. _A rose. A poppy. A bluebell._

_"_ Where did he go?" Lola asked gently, but Mary jumped nonetheless. She looked around, noticing Diane had quietly left. Her door was shut, and no servants were within earshot.

"He left for Scotland. I sent with him a letter for my mother, begging political asylum for him. I sent my second signet ring as well, so she would know the request came from me."

"That was brilliant, Mary. Catherine would not pursue him outside of France."

Mary whimpered again, placing a hand on her barely swollen belly. They had been so happy for a few weeks. Sebastian was thrilled to be a father, and Mary was so content with that knowledge. Now, he might not see his child born, or grow up. He might never come back to the French court, to her. The thought blanketed Mary in darkness. She needed the light, but her light had left on horseback.

"Be that as it may, what if he never leaves Scotland? What if he never sees his ..." Mary paused, stroking her stomach.

"Son." Lola offered, smiling knowingly up at Mary. Mary blinked, looking confusedly at Lola. "Nostradamus has had a vision. Your child is a son, and a prince."

"A son? We will have a boy?" Lola was pleased to see the smile that graced Mary's face. It was harder, now, to continue with the news she had been meaning to share with Mary for weeks. "Mary, I need to tell you something else."

"Wait, when you first arrived tonight you said Nostradamus had sent you?" The smile continued on Mary's face, now turning into more of a smirk.

"Yes, he did." Mary continued to gaze at her friend, urging her to continue. "Yes. Whatever your question is Mary, the answer is yes."

"Is he good?" Mary enjoyed the momentary distraction from her sorrows to delve into Lola's newly acknowledged love-life.

"Well, I should not have said 'yes' to any question, for that one I cannot answer yet. However, you have distracted me from what I was originally going to tell you." Lola glanced at Mary as if she was a parent disciplining her child. Mary smiled, but nodded for Lola to tell her story. "How do I start? Remember a few months back when Queen Catherine had planned that strange evening party for us?"

"How can I forget, for that was the first time Sebastian and I..." She realized this might still be a touchy subject for Lola, even though they had not spoken of it since Mary knew Lola had feelings for Nostradamus.

"Yes, neither one of us shall forget that night. Anyway, apparently Catherine had requested several elixirs from Nostradamus for that night. He made one to be used on multiple people."

"What was the elixir?"

"It was an aphrodisiac. It was meant to be mixed with wine, which it was, to encourage you to bed Francis. It was also put in my wine, and Sebastian's, in hopes he would bed me." Mary stared at Lola, finding no words in response to Lola's revelation. The idea that now floated across her mind bothered her greatly. What if her need for Sebastian, and his for her, was only driven by the elixir? Lola was perceptive, realizing her friend was twisting the news.

"Before you panic, Nostradamus assured me the elixir would only enhance personal feelings, not create them. You already had the need, and the want, for Sebastian. The combination of the wine and the aphrodisiac only lifted any inhibition you might have had...at claiming...him."

Mary relaxed, but still felt partially violated.

"But Mary, she also had one additional elixir made specifically for you. It was for increasing fertility. If Francis bedded you, and you conceived a child, the Queen would finally have an heir..."

"And then I would be expendable. Only Catherine would be so devious. So that means I still need to be on my guard, even after my child is born." Lola nodded. Mary reached her arms around her friend, hugging her close. "I know that was hard for you to tell me, but thank you."

"You are welcome, Mary. I would not have told you if it was not important. And please be assured, again, that your feelings for Sebastian are real."

Mary genuinely laughed, kissing Lola on the cheek. "Oh sweet Lola, I do not need reassurances there." Mary paused for a moment, grasping Lola's hand. "Will you stay for the rest of the night? I do not want to be alone, with only my tears as company."

"Of course, Mary, I would be happy too."

* * *

Over the next two weeks, Lola and Mary rekindled their friendship. Not that is was falling apart, but they spent more hours together than they had in months. With the revelation that her unborn child was a boy, Mary and Lola spent some of that time making clothes and blankets for the baby. Mary had several special pieces commissioned out to the best seamstresses at court. She would spare no expense for Sebastian's son.

Kenna had finally eclipsed her horrible morning sickness, and accompanied Mary occasionally on walks within the castle. Mary let her prattle on about how Henry doted on her now, giving her multiple new jewelry pieces, and waiting on her hand and foot. For Kenna, this amount of exuberance was normal, and Mary enjoyed seeing her friend so happy.

Henry.

The King, and Francis, had returned just four days previously. Upon news of Sebastian's disappearance, Henry raged around the castle. He ordered multiple search parties out, ordering them to go to the coast if they needed to find him. He gave his favorite son freedom, but disappearing was not one of Sebastian's usual activities. Francis, too, was upset, but brushed it off as his brother just being himself.

"Lady Mary, Lady Kenna." A servant stammered as he hurriedly turned the corner, almost running into both ladies. "You are requested in the Great Hall immediately. A courier has arrived with news of the King's son."

Mary unknowingly gripped Kenna's arms, which was laced with her own, tightly. Kenna gave a curt 'yes' to the servant, before turning to face Mary.

"Can you let go of my arm?" Kenna jerked her arm away from Mary. "What was that about?"

"I am just anxious to hear about Sebastian. The King and Francis have been so worried."

"Tell me about it, it is all Henry talks about." Mary was put off by Kenna's indifferent tone towards Henry's worry and Sebastian's predicament. But they relaced arms, walking quickly to back towards the Great Hall. When they turned the corner that led to towards the hall entrance, Mary noticed the servants were running around in disarray. King Henry was barking orders, though Mary could not make out the words. From out of the corner, Diane ran forward. Grabbing Mary by the arm, she pulled her away from Kenna, who shot Diane daggers with one swift glance.

"We are busy, Diane." Kenna said harshly, reaching for Mary's other arm. Diane ignored her, catching Mary's eyes in a serious, demanding gaze.

"Mary, if you hear no other words today, please listen to mine. Not is all as it seems." Mary stepped back from Diane, her brows furrowed.

"What do you mean?"

Diane shook her head, sidestepping Mary and Kenna and headed into the Hall. Mary heard Kenna whisper 'Rude' before they both followed suit. _What did Diane mean, not is all as it seems?_ Mary thought. Her words were vague, and cryptic. _Did she mean something about Sebastian?  
_

Greer, Aylee and Lola were already in the Hall, waiting on Mary. As Mary and Kenna made their way over, Mary saw Francis speaking with his father and his mother. King Henry was gesturing wildly, as was Francis. Queen Catherine, on the other hand, looked bored, but followed the shouting match between her husband and son with much interest.

"Do we know what has happened?" Aylee whispered to Mary, glancing around the court. A general unease seemed to flow like the wind from one end of the hall to the other.

"Enough!" Henry shouted, raising his arms. "Our courier is stabling his horse, and will join us shortly. The message he sent ahead said he has news of my son, Sebastian. Thank God we shall know more!"

A commotion outside the hall caused a stir amongst the court. Several swayed unsteadily, while a few, including Mary, took a few tentative steps forward to see out the door. A middle-aged man came hurrying in, smelling of horse sweat and dirt. He bowed courteously to Henry and Catherine, nodding toward Francis.

"Finally, man. What good news do you bring us?" Henry stepped forward towards the man, extending an arm and gripping the man's shoulder.

"We found Sebastian, Your Majesty." He stammered, looking around nervously. Gasps filled the hall, and a few happy smiles exchanged. The man turned around, motioning several people forward with his hand. Mary reached back and found Lola's outstretched one. A happiness filled Mary, and it showed through her smile. _Sebastian has returned!_

But a horrible scream forced Mary to whip her head back around. The men accompanying the courier half-carried, half-drug a man's body between them. They gently laid the extremely limp body on the ground. At this point, the court had gone quiet, except for the hysterical crying from one woman. Diane threw herself forward through the crowd, screaming "My son! My son!"

Henry stood staring at the body, not moving and not speaking. Francis looked to be in shock. Catherine just continually clasped and unclasped her hands.

Blackness.

Mary fought against the blackness threatening to consume her. Her vision had gone hazy about the time Diane had started screaming. There was a pit forming in her stomach, and Mary wanted someone to pinch her. This surely had to be a dream. Words were being exchanged, very loudly in fact, between the King and the courier, but Mary only heard a few.

"Found him...beaten to death...too much blood...robbed of most everything..." Those were the only words Mary distinguished from the courier's speech. Sebastian, _her_ Sebastian, laid dead on the floor of the Great Hall. From her angle, she could not see his face. Of that, she was very thankful. She wanted to remember his smiling face, not a bloody and swollen one. But Mary could see his brown leather tunic and trousers, the same ones she saw him put on that fateful evening he left. They were now torn, and covered in blood. Peeking out from his tunic was his lion pendant. Mary had only seen it a few times, mainly when Sebastian was dressing, or undressing. He called it his good luck charm.

For a brief second, Mary wondered how she could be so calm.

Then she heard the screaming again. But these screams were not from Diane. They bubbled up from her throat, cutting and scratching their way out. Her knees buckled, but strong arms reached around her, keeping her from falling. The last voice she heard before being removed from the hall was Francis.

"Lola, get her out of here and back to her chambers. She should not witness this in her condition."

_In my condition?_ Mary thought. _I am in this condition because of the man lying dead on the floor. My love. My Sebastian. My Bash._

Lola held her right arm, while Aylee held her left. They walked silently beside her, afraid to break her quiet stance. Mary obediently walked, not quite understanding how her feet were still moving. She felt hollow, like someone had reached inside and ripped her heart out. And her lungs. A memory of their first night together suddenly surfaced. Sebastian had told her 'You will be the death of me.' Though he meant it in a different fashion, those words haunted Mary, and Mary remembered them vividly now. _I told him he should never have said those words._

Upon reaching her chambers, Lola stopped. "Mary, would you like..."

"No." Her words were quite, but harsh. "Leave me be." Lola, Aylee, and Greer, who had silently followed Mary and the others, glanced at each other, shrugging. They curtseyed, as was proper, and stepped away from their Queen.

Mary entered her chambers alone, and went right to the window. It was the same window where she watched his retreating his figure barely more than two weeks ago. Her fist made contact with the window, and Mary delighted in the pain. The pain was real.

"You promised you would come back." Mary whispered, through the renewed tears. "You promised." As she watched the snow begin to filter from the sky, Mary was haunted by not only Sebastian's words, but his mother's more recent ones.

_Not is all as it seems._


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that was crazy =) Thank you for all the positive reviews!
> 
> Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More.
> 
> Chapter 13 Music: Let It Be by the Beatles
> 
> When I find myself in times of trouble / Mother Mary comes to me  
> Speaking words of wisdom, let it be  
> And in my hour of darkness / She is standing right in front of me  
> Speaking words of wisdom, let it be  
> Let it be, let it be / Let it be, let it be  
> Whisper words of wisdom, let it be
> 
> And when the broken-hearted people / Living in the world agree  
> There will be an answer, let it be  
> For though they may be parted / There is still a chance that they will see  
> There will be an answer, let it be  
> Let it be, let it be / Let it be, let it be  
> Whisper words of wisdom, let it be

Mary awoke the next morning to swollen eyes, blurry vision, and a desperate ache in her heart. For a split second, Mary thought the previous day's events had all been a terrible dream. _Sebastian cannot be dead,_ she thought. Maybe if she repeated the phrase enough she would believe it, or it would actually be true.

Francis stirred beside her, having come unbidden to her room well after midnight. The horror of the days news showed clearly on his pale face. Mary had said very little to him, but allowed him to climb into bed and pull her close. She had fallen fitfully back to sleep, feeling his tears ghost across her shoulder.

In the waking moments when she would try to close her eyes again, she would see Sebastian's bloodied body, and hear Diane's curdling screams. No matter what she did, those screams echoed constantly within her mind, causing her to question her sanity. Mary was a strong woman, but she had one major weakness.

_Sebastian._

He came into her life and swept her off her feet when she least expected it. And yet, it was perfectly timed. He had been there when she most needed him, and as a consequence, she fell helplessly in love with him. It had not been a long fall, for loving Sebastian was as easy as breathing for Mary. She tried picturing his face in those moments before Diane had interrupted them that fateful night. His eyes shone bright with love, passion, and even lust. He had held her tight, and yet ever so gently as if she would break. Those were the moments she would cherish.

Those were the moments she would remember.

She wished he would have had a portrait made for her at some point. Something small she could keep with her always. Something she could show their son, when telling him about the goodness of his father.

But now she would not have the chance.

"I never asked if you were okay." Francis whispered into Mary's shoulder. She was not sure how long Francis had been awake, or, if like her, he did not sleep much.

"No, I am not." Any more words, and Mary felt she might disclose the entirety of her affair. _'No Francis, I am far from okay. I love your half-brother. I have bedded your brother, and I am carrying his child. And now he is dead. Should I be okay?'_ The words floated through Mary's mind, converging on Mary's tongue before quickly dissipating. She wanted to scream her anger at the world for taking him too soon.

"Me either." Francis replied dejectedly. Mary was just now getting a glimpse of the pain of loss Francis was enduring. He had lost his older brother. He was the boy Francis had played with as a child, creating mischief wherever they went. He was the man Francis had looked towards; A man Francis was jealous of, because of his freedom. Francis had confessed many of these things to Mary early in their relationship, but to see Francis so wounded now hurt Mary deeply.

They both were hurting.

Mary's soul cried out to God. _Why did you take him? Why now? Why? Why? Why?_

Now, the only thing Mary would look forward to was the birth of their child. Not quite six months away, she prayed she would look upon Bash's eyes again. See his smile in his child's smile, and be thankful she could care for, raise, and teach a living being who was half her soul, and half his.

* * *

Time was suppose to heal all wounds, or so the stories would always say. It had been a week since Sebastian's body was brought back to court, and Mary felt worse now than she did at the time. His father was sparing no expense for a state funeral, even though Catherine balked at the idea. 'He is not recognized by the church, how can we have a proper state funeral for him?' She would constantly barrage. She said it just enough that Henry, in front of the entire court, banned her from the ceremony and banished her to her chambers until it was complete. Mary much enjoyed watching Catherine publicly shamed.

"Mary, it is time." Lola said softly. She had entered Mary's chambers quietly, for Mary was occupied gazing out her front window. Window-gazing had become Mary's _favorite_ pastime over the previous week.

"Already?" Mary whispered, not bothering to turn her head. Greer and Aylee had been bustling around her chambers earlier, readying Mary's dress and hair. Lola noted Mary wore a dress of brilliant blue, known to be Sebastian's favorite color. From the back, Lola noticed Mary's laces were not pulled as tightly as customary. She made a mental note they would be needing a few new dresses made to accommodate Mary's changing figure.

Lola not only mourned Sebastian's loss for herself, but the despair evident for Mary hurt her too. Mary had finally been really happy, and then in a blink of an eye, her world collapsed.

"I think we must go. I imagine Francis is waiting for you." Lola took a few tentative steps closer to Mary, reaching hesitantly towards her arm. Mary let Lola lead her out of her chambers. As they walked the halls, heading towards the castle chapel, Mary slid her hand down Lola's arm, weaving their hands together and squeezing tightly.

The funeral was to be in the castle chapel, before they would ultimately move his body to it's final resting place of Basilique Saint-Denis, where he would be buried next to his grandfathers and great-grandfathers. As they entered the chapel, Mary could see the court slowly filtering in the room. Still gripping Lola's hand, they made their way to the front where King Henry and Francis were seated.

Lola slowly extracted her hand from Mary's, who tried to refuse to let her go. Francis took Lola's place, and Mary sat on the hard wooden bench. A hush came settled in the chapel, and Mary turned her head around. Diane walked gingerly down the chapel aisle, a black lace veil draped dramatically across her face and down her back. She reached the altar and knelt. Nobody in the chapel made a sound. Diane made the sign of the cross, before raising herself up and coming to sit on the other side of Mary.

The procession began on schedule, incense wafting around Mary as the priests passed her pew. Diane had sat on her left, and while the priests made their way down the aisle, Mary felt Diane's hands wrap around her own. Something small was slipped into Mary's hand, and Diane held her hand tightly for just a moment. Mary wanted more than anything to acknowledge Diane's actions, and peek at whatever was now grasped tightly between her fingers. But now was not the moment. Not with Francis on her right side.

As the priests began the funeral mass, Mary let the words go right through her. The familiar Latin epitaphs sounded like beautiful romantic poetry, if Mary had not known their true meaning. The weeping began not long after, and it was hard enough for Mary to hold back tears when others did not.

"Mary, it is time to leave." Lola stood in front of Mary. Shelooked around the chapel, realizing the mass was over and only she, Lola, and Francis were still in the chapel.

"Is it over?" Lola nodded, noting the dazed appearance Mary exhibited, and had been all day. Lola noted the same appearance around Francis too. It would be a while before either the Dauphin or the Queen returned to their normal selves. But what would normal be now? And Lola did not think Mary, the real Mary, would ever return. She had never seen her friend in such a state.

"Mary, we need to attend the feast. I know neither of us want to right now, but father will expect us." Francis extended an elbow, and Mary obediently latched on. Lola did not know what disturbed her more about Mary's current state: her lack of words, or her lack of emotions. There was a part of her she had completely shut down, being accessible to no one.

The trio walked quietly down the hall, each left their own despairing thoughts.

* * *

Mary picked at the food on her plate, not feeling particularly hungry, but knowing her son needed her to eat. The feast was just as spectacular as the funeral mass. King Henry ordered the feast to be more festive than usual, so as it be more representative of Sebastian's life. And it was. The food was gourmet, the music was lively, and the court appeared seemingly _happy._ Or happier than they had been during mass.

Mary shifted in her seat, and felt her small purse bounce against her leg. She remembered the small item Diane had given her during the ceremony. She had stashed it away in the small bag she kept hidden in her skirts. Curiosity got the best of her, and she tugged the small item from it's hiding place. Opening her hand, the small lion pendant Sebastian wore sat in the palm of her hand. Wrapped around the laces was a shortened piece of paper. Unfolding it, Diane's scrawling words became visible. _It brought him good luck, let it bring you the same._

Mary had successfully kept the tears from falling all day, but her emotional barrier officially broke as she looked upon his pendant. Wrapping it securely in her hand, she begged Francis good night, excusing herself as overly tired. She escaped unstopped down the corridors, and saw nothing more welcoming than the door to her chambers.

Collapsing on the bed, Mary wept.

* * *

The next two weeks passed in a blur. Mary barely left her chambers, other than to walk with her ladies around the castle. Francis visited occasionally, but he had other methods of easing his grief. On a beautiful Saturday, Mary asked her ladies if they would accompany her on a trip to Basilique Saint-Denis later that day. The afternoon temperatures had been warmer than usual the past few days, and she wanted to see Sebastian's final resting place. The monumental tomb was still under construction, but he rested in peace in what was to be King Henry's tomb, until his was complete. _Would flowers be too much?_ She thought. Still only Lola knew of her true relationship with Sebastian, and Mary was afraid too much attention from her might prove disastrous. Especially with Kenna so _intimately_ close to the King.

Even so, Mary specially requested a small bouquet of whatever they could find, being nearly mid-February. A handful of white carnations had just arrived, and Mary was anxiously awaiting Lola, Greer and Aylee's return so the could make their travel before the sun sets.

Lola and Greer arrived shortly after the carnations. With light capes, they were already dressed for the carriage ride.

"Where is Aylee?" Lola asked, helping Mary into the lighter of her two capes. Though warmer than usual, Lola did not want Mary to catch any chill that might affect her child.

"I am not sure. I thought she would be with you?" Mary replied, turning to grab the flowers off her table.

"Mary, are you sure you want to go?" Lola approached Mary, whispering the words in her ear to avoid Greer overhearing. Mary nodded in response, smiling weakly at her friend.

"Yes, I need to see him."

"Ah, there is Aylee now." Greer spoke as Aylee came bristling in the doorway.

"Sorry I am late, Mary, but a letter just arrived from your mother." She curtseyed as she handed the letter to Mary, a very Aylee-like gesture. She was ever the epitome of courtly decorum.

Mary noticed the seal had already been broken. _So the Queen is still reading my mother's letter,_ she smirked. It had been several months since she had heard from her mother, and as Mary tried to remember, she realized it was before she knew she was with child.

"If you do not mind, I would like to briefly glance over the letter. I have not heard from my mother in a long time."

Choruses of 'Of course, Mary' rang out from her ladies, and they began tidying the few things in Mary's chambers that were out of place. Sitting in her favorite chair by the window, Mary excitedly unfolded the letter. It was shorter than normal, only two pages front and back. A smaller folded note fell from between the two pages, and Mary looked at it interestingly. She say it aside, vowing to read it after her afternoon saunter. Fingering the lion pendant that she now wore, typically hidden in her bodice but currently pulled out for her to hold, Mary began reading the beautiful penmanship that belonged only to her mother.

The first few lines of her mother's letter were typical, wishing Mary good health, and asking how things were at court.

The fourth line of the letter gave Mary pause. The carnations slipped from her lap, falling haphazardly onto the rug beneath. She felt her fingers drop the lion pendant and come to her face, covering her mouth in astonishment.

"Mary, are you alright? What has your mother said?" Greer asked. All of Mary's ladies looked at her, noticing the sudden change in her features.

No words came to Mary's mind that were adequate to describe her current emotional state.

Instead, she began laughing, tears of joy spilling easily down her cheeks.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So excited Reign won best new TV drama at the People's Choice Awards! And so excited for the continued support from my readers! You all ROCK! Thank you for all the positive reviews!
> 
> Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More.
> 
> Chapter 14 Music: Dedicated to the One I Love by The Mama's and the Papa's
> 
> While I'm far away from you my baby / I know it's hard for you my baby  
> Because it's hard for me my baby / And the darkest hour is just before dawn
> 
> [love can never be exactly like we want it to be]
> 
> I could be satisfied knowing you love me  
> [and there's one thing I want you to do especially for me]  
> And it's something that everybody needs
> 
> If there's one thing I want you to do especially for me / Then it's something that everybody needs  
> Each night before you go to bed my baby / Whisper a little prayer for me my baby  
> And tell all the stars above / This is dedicated to the one I love

* * *

_Two Weeks Previously_

"My Lady Regent?" The older man questioned, bowing as he entered the council room. Regent Marie de Guise sat thoughtfully at the table, shifting through a pile of petitions addressed to their most gracious Queen, her daughter.

Looking up from the pile of paperwork, a sigh of relief on her face at seeing the older gentleman, she smiled. "You are a welcome sight, Kingston. What brings you?"

"Our scouts have spotted a rider, my Lady, from atop the castle precipice. He rides hard, and fast." Kingston wheezed, awaiting the Regent's direction in the matter.

"A rider? This is interesting." She muttered, moving eagerly from the table to the window on the opposite end of the room. Nothing could be seen coming from beyond the Loch, least of all a rider. "Well, when they arrive you must ascertain why they are in such hurry, and inform me at once. I do so hope this is not bad news again."

"Aye, my Lady." Kingston bowed, turning on his heel and taking small, hurried steps down the hall. The interest of Marie de Guise was definitely peaked at this point. Scotland had been questioningly quiet the past few months. No border raids from England, or Scottish feudal lord disputes. But there had also been no word from her daughter, Mary, who typically did not fail to write her every month or so. She worried about her daughter's happiness in France. The last few letters she did receive were tainted with despair, unhappiness, and sorrow. Oh Mary never mentioned her issues, but they flowed from between the lines of her script handwriting like poetry. She imagined Mary might be experiencing the hardships accompanied with arranged married life. Marie, herself, endured the same hardships, even though she, too, loved her husband. She had kept contact with James' bastard, for young James' Protestant connections could prove exceedingly useful for not only herself, but Mary as well. It had taken her almost a lifetime to accept Scotland was a Protestant country. Mary would have to accept that too.

Still seeing no sign of this rider, Marie glided back to the council table, ready to read through a few additional petitions, granting those she deemed most appropriate. And all in her daughter's name. They would ask for land, or help in quelling minor quarrels between neighbors. Some wanted religious freedom, others demanded restoration of the Catholic church. The requests went on and on. By the time she had reached the tenth petition, her eyes were crossing. Her eyesight was not what it used to be, and straining to read the small writing tended to induce terrible headaches. She was granted a reprieve as a knock on the door echoed around the council room.

"Ah, Kingston, I hope you have more information of this rider for me?" Marie de Guise nodded to the older man, whom she considered a great friend. She had known him and his wife for a long time, and they were very loyal to the Stuarts.

"Aye, my Lady Regent. He specifically requests to speak directly to you, and he will nae give me his name." Marie could see the old man bristling at the rider's impertinence.

"Is he a threat?" She had uttered those words many times before, regarding many different people. Threats had been easy to come by in previous years.

"Na, I do nae think so."

"Then show him in to the council room. I can shout very loudly, you know, if he is a threat." She smiled, laughingly at Kingston, whose lips twitched upward slightly in response. He nodded to Marie, leaving the doorway for just a moment, before leading a young man in to the room.

Though not young, the man was not middle-aged either. His brown hair was in disarray from traveling, as was his entire person. And he smelled of horse sweat, amongst other odors. Marie instinctively reached for her ball of incense, attached by a small chain to her waist belt.

"I see you have traveled a long way to see me personally. What is it you come for, nameless one?" Marie noticed he held himself tense, as if he might snap in half at any moment.

"I seek safety and security in Scotland, Regent. I bring you these as well." The man handed over a folded letter. Perched unsteadily on top of the paper was a ring.

Marie de Guise recognized the ring immediately. It belonged her daughter, the royal crest of Scotland shining brightly in the center. She gripped it firmly in her hand, quickly tearing the seal on the letter to ascertain why such a man came bearing Mary's ring.

_My Dearest Mother,_

__Please take care of this man. He is most precious to me, and his life is in danger._ His identity must remain a secret, so those hunting him cannot ever find him. I beg of you, please shelter him for me.  
_

_I wish I could tell you more, but I cannot. Understand I would not ask this of you if his situation was not dire._

_Please write, when you have a moment, and let me know my cousin has arrived safely._

_Your Devoted Daughter,_

_Mary  
_

Marie looked up curiously at the man before her now. From her daughter's letter, which was most assuredly in her daughter's handwriting, she assumed this was no ordinary man.

"My, my." Marie started, folding her daughter's letter and holding it closely in her hand. "My married daughter is asking me to protect a man who is most precious to her. A man who is not her husband. This is turning out to be a most interesting day." She walked slowly over to the fireplace, keeping an eye on the young man. He was studying his feet, unwilling to meet her gaze. "Tell me, young man, if I cannot call you by your given name, what can I call you? I definitely do not want to keep calling you young man."

He met her gaze, studying her mannerisms. He laughed to himself. There was no mistaking the resemblance between Mary and her mother. They were much alike in features, and in spirit.

"You may call me Henry if you like. It is a given name of mine, though no one knows me by it." He knew the moment he spoke, his accent would give away his point of origin.

"I do love France, Henry, for that is where you are from, is it not? I knew you must at least be housed at the French Court from what my daughter wrote." He nodded. "Now tell me, honestly, are you Mary's lover?" His eyes widened and he took a step away from the Regent.

"Do not be alarmed, my boy, I do not judge you or Mary. But I know she had been unhappy for awhile, and if you brought her some joy then I will commend you."

Henry simply nodded.

"Good, now why are you seeking shelter here, or can you tell me?"

"There are those who believe I wish to take my brother's place. They wish me dead." He whispered the words, still reeling from the knowledge he had left Mary alone with those same people, and in her current state.

"Well we cannot have that, now can we? A love of my daughter's is most welcome here, and I will do all in my power to protect you."

"Thank you, Regent."

"Now, please go clean yourself up. You smell of horse." Henry laughed as Marie periodically kept pulling her incense ball out and wafting it in front of her nose. "Once you do, please join me for dinner. I would like to hear more about Mary."

"I would be honored." Henry bowed, turning to head toward the door. He stopped, looking back at the woman with the same raven hair and bold features. "And thank you. I assure you your help is much appreciated."

Marie smiled, and motioned him out the door.

* * *

He had cleaned himself up, feeling much more relaxed after a quick bath and change of clothes. From the window of the room he had been lent, he admired the Scottish scenery. It was as beautiful, if not more, than France. Though it lacked one crucial feature.

_Mary._

He was thankful her mother had humbly and completely welcomed him. He was amazed how easily she was able to perceive the true nature of his relationship with her daughter. He did not think it wise to mention the child at this point. He took a quick glance at himself in the small mirror they provided, and decided he was decent enough to attend dinner with the Regent.

Dinner was a quiet affair at first. He vowed not to be the first to speak, unsure of how to appropriately acknowledge her.

"Do you love Mary?" Marie de Guise asked abruptly. He thanked his stars he did not have a mouth full of food, or her might have choked.

"With all that is in me, yes." He replied, holding the Regent's gaze steadily.

"Good, because if you were just after power or privilege, I might have seen to it you would never return to France." He gulped. "But no matter, I can sense your ardent honesty."

"Thank you." He finally managed to politely reply.

"Have you thought what I might happen if she were to have your child?"

This time he did choke, trying not to cough embarrassingly in front of Mary's mother. He was surprised by the forwardness of her questions. He blushed, stuttering to find an accurate response.

"She is already, is she not? Oh my, this does complicate things." He hung his head in defeat, having vowed to not bring up the child. When it came to Mary, he tended to wear him emotions quite openly.

"The Dauphin does not suspect..."

"You would be wise to not complete your thought. My walls do not have ears, but I do, and I do not want to hear what words might follow."

"My apologies, Regent."

Marie de Guise rose, walking to retrieve a quill and paper from a small, decorative desk. She placed them before 'Henry'.

"I must think on what you have just told me. In the meantime, would you like to write a letter? I am sure she would love a letter from her _cousin._ I can send it with the letter I plan on writing shortly."

Cousin? He realized that would be the way to slip his identify past Catherine, who he knew read all of Mary's letters to and from her mother. He smiled in appreciation to the Regent, before gently picking up the quill. There were so many words he wanted to write, many were words of love and devotion. But he could not write such things. He would have to carefully chose his words, and craft his sentences, in hopes of conveying how much he missed her, missed his unborn child, and loved them both. We wanted to apologize for how he would have scared her, hoping his mother had reached Mary in time. As he wrote his words, he prayed he could speak them, and so many more, to her in person.

* * *

_Current_

The tears flowed freely down Mary's cheeks as she laughed. How clever of her mother and Sebastian to chose the name Henry. She knew it was his given middle name, after his father of course, but how appropriate. She could not handle the stream of emotions flowing through her, just knowing he was alive. _Then who had they buried?_

"Mary, what did your mother say?" Greer asked again, coming closer to her Queen. All the ladies' approached Mary cautiously, unsure of her mental stability.

"Oh, it is nothing really." Mary chuckled, wiping her cheeks. "My cousin has come to visit my mother, and apparently he is quite entertaining. She merely told me a few of his jokes." She hoped she spoke those words with conviction. No one in France could know Sebastian was alive, and her mother must have known Queen Catherine would read her letters. She glanced down again at her mother's letter, reading the joyful words.

_My Dearest Mary,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I pray King Henry, Queen Catherine, and Francis are in excellent spirits. How is all at the French court? Your_ _cousin_ _, Henry, has paid us an unexpected visit. I have not seen him in many years, and though he has traveled hard and far, he seems relaxed to be at rest for a while. He is most handsome, and I wish you were here so we could be together as a family. I will keep him safely under my wing, and hope he and your brother may become close friends._

The letter continued, but she would read the rest later. Mary could tell her mother had written emphasis on the words _cousin,_ as well as _hard and far._ She thanked her mother for paying close attention to her original letter, thankfully now Catherine would not read anything into a visit from her cousin.

"Are you sure, Mary?" Lola questioned her Queen, peering around Mary to see her letter. Calmly Mary folded the letter, and placing it in her small bag she planned to carry around her wrist on their excursion to Sebastian's grave.

"Most assuredly. Now that Aylee's here, shall we leave?" The ladies nodded, heading toward the door. Mary remembered the other additional piece of paper that fallen in her lap. Wondering what it might contain, she whisked it from it's resting spot and placed it in her bag as well. "Today is a day for remembering, Ladies. Let us have happy thoughts of our friend."

Mary would, indeed, have happy thoughts. For he was alive, and safe.

* * *

Crawling in bed, Mary withdrew her small bag from under her pillow. She had stashed it their after they returned from visiting Sebastian's current resting place. As the candles flickered, she pulled the smaller note from the bag. Her heart was pounding in anticipation. Mary thought her chest might have grown wings to fly by the amount of fluttering in her heart.

She opened the note slowly. She knew the handwriting immediately, and her son kicked as if he saw his father's words through her eyes.

_My Most Beloved Cousin,_

_I am sorry I am not able to see you while I visit your gracious mother. I pray you and your most intimate company are well._

Mary laughed, happily caressing her most intimate company, who kicked in response. "We are most well now, I can assure you," she giggled.

_It has been too long since I have seen you, but I hope I can remedy that soon._

"I hope so too." Mary whispered.

_We have heard in Scotland of the passing of King Henry's oldest son. Let us pray for his soul's forgiveness of his duplicitous behavior._

__Please know you are dearly loved and missed._ _

_With Love and Devotion, Henry_

The 'Henry' looked strained, as if it was hard for Sebastian to conceal his identity. Mary did not care. He was alive, and that all that mattered.

She fell asleep clutching his letter, as his name fell quietly from her lips. For the first night in several weeks, Mary slept peacefully.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So excited for the continued support from my readers! You all ROCK! Thank you for all the positive reviews!
> 
> Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More.
> 
> Chapter 15 Music: Carrickfergus performed by Charlotte Church
> 
> I wish I was in Carrickfergus / Where the castle looks out to sea.  
> I would swim over the deepest ocean / For my love to be with me.
> 
> But the sea is wide and I can not swim over /Nor have I the wings to fly  
> I wish I had a handsome boatman / To ferry me over, my love and I.
> 
> I wish I was in the land of Eire / Where the mountains reach the sea.  
> Where flowers blossom as I do remember / Where my true love came to me.
> 
> But the sea is wide and I can not swim over / Nor have I the wings to fly
> 
> I wish I was in Carrickfergus / To be together my love and I.

As Mary awoke the next morning, she could not help but wonder who was buried in Sebastian's tomb. He had mentioned seeking forgiveness for his duplicitous behavior in his letter, but what did he mean by those words? Had he staged his own death, murdering an innocent person to throw the mercenaries off his trail? Or had he paid someone to portray him, not knowing they were being sent to their death?

"Are you alright this morning, Mary?" Lola asked gently. Mary had not even heard Lola enter her chambers.

"Yes, I am fine, Lola. Will you help me get ready?" Lola nodded, heading towards the bureau containing Mary's dresses. As she rifled through the assortment, trying to find the most non-binding dress, she decided to ask Mary a question. "Mary, what was really in the letter from your mother? And do not feed me the line about your cousin, for I know you better than that."

Beckoning Lola over to the bed, Mary leaned over the whispered in her friend's ear. "Bash is alive."

"Oh praise be to God." Lola whispered in turn, wrapping her arms around Mary's shoulders. "But then who is in Sebastian's grave?"

Mary shrugged, relieved to share the burden of happy news with her dear friend. From the beginning of the whole affair, Mary could trust in Lola's strictest confidence, and she had yet to prove Mary's confidence unworthy.

"I will ask him the next time I see him." Mary smiled sadly. Her heart ached, for she did not know when she would see him again.

"Surely he can come back to court, now that his father is back? He can expose Queen Catherine for the serpent she is!" Lola hissed.

"Catherine's lackeys are as cunning as she is, and I do not want him risking his life to come to court for my own selfishness."

"You are not selfish, Mary. You are carrying his child, it is not selfish to want him to be here."

"And here I am."

Mary and Lola jumped, turning to see the main door to her chambers standing open, and a smiling Francis in the doorway.

"Francis! I am surprised to see you so early this morning." Mary masked the horror she felt inside. _How much of our conversation did he hear?_ She thought. Lola quickly curtseyed as she moved from Mary's side, going back to Mary's dresses a bit too eagerly.

"Ah yes, well, it is a beautiful morning, and I thought you might like a walk?" Francis sauntered over to Mary's bedside, easing himself down next to Mary. Still panicking inside, Mary nodded, reaching for his hand and squeezing it gently. "Good! I will leave you to get ready then. I will be downstairs when you are ready." He started to rise, but stopped short. He looked at Mary questioningly, and moved his hand towards her belly. He placed it there gently, and smiled up at Mary. She was taken aback for a moment. He had not shown this type of affection since she initially told him she was with child.

Without further hesitation, he left her chambers. Mary stared at the door after he left, unsure what to say or think. It was Lola who spoke first.

"How much do you think he heard?"

"Hopefully not enough." Mary replied, standing to be dressed. _Hopefully not enough._

* * *

The wind was brisk, but not overly chilly. Mary clung to Francis' arm as they walked around the garden. There was a tension that was palpable between the two, but it was not laced with hostility. Instead, Mary felt as if Francis had a deep burden weighing heavily on his shoulders.

"Mary, I feel like something has changed between us." He stared off into the distance while they walked, not meeting her gaze. "Ever since Bash...I feel like there is a wall between us. A wall I cannot break down."

Mary was taken aback by the emotion evident in Francis' voice. It was true, ever since the body had been brought back to court, Mary had kept her distance. But she had been keeping her distance even before Sebastian left.

"I am not sure what you mean, Francis? Sebastian's passing hurt us all. I considered him a great friend."

"You have kept your distance from me, almost as if you were punishing me for his death." There was a hint of anger laced in his words now, and Mary knew she would need to diffuse this situation quickly, before it reached a boiling point.

"I am by no means blaming you or punishing you. Remember, I am carrying your child. I am allowed to be moody." She forcibly laughed, hoping her attempt at humor would lighten his spirits. He smiled in turn, nodding his head and laughing himself.

"How is my child? Rambunctious as I was?" Mary reached for Francis' hand, placing it on the still small swell of her belly. Her son kicked several times, and Francis genuinely laughed out loud.

"He is definitely starting to keep me up at night with those kicks." There was truth in the statement. It was becoming increasingly difficult for Mary to sleep comfortably, as he either kept her awake kicking, or her back and legs ached from the increasing weight.

"He? Are you a seer now too?" Francis laughed again, and was happier than Mary had seen him in a long while.

"Heavens no, it is just easier for me to pick one or the other. 'He' sounded perfect to me."

The wind began to pick up again, and Mary shivered involuntarily. "Let us get you two back inside." Francis steered Mary back towards the castle, and she was grateful for the warmth of the castle's many fireplaces. Heading back to her chambers, for her back ached terribly, Mary repressed the guilt she felt inside. With Sebastian's continued absence, she found it hard not to feel guilty for deceiving Francis.

_But my life, and my son's life, depend on it._

* * *

March and April passed by uneventfully. By the beginning of May, Mary was feeling the weight of her pregnancy in full force. Walking was becoming a labor of love, as her ankles were swollen and her lungs felt drastically smaller. Her midwife, the nice older Agnes, had estimated the royal heir would arrive near the end of July, but Mary knew babies made their own arrival schedules.

The King's child was due as early as the end of May, and Mary visited Kenna daily, as she had already entered her confinement. Sebastian would have a new brother or sister soon, and every letter Mary wrote to her cousin briefly updated him on not only her own pregnancy, but Kenna's as well. She wished he could come back to court in time to see his child born.

She exchanged letters with her mother, and subsequently Sebastian, more frequently as the spring progressed, especially now that her child's entrance to the world was rapidly approaching. In her last letter to her mother, she offhandedly asked if she might visit France to see her grandchild. _Could Sebastian somehow travel with her?_ Mary thought. She still sensed danger in the air. Maybe it was her maternal instincts, now rearing their head in full force.

A strand of hair came loose from her braid, tickling her face in the breeze. She stood on the north balcony of the castle, leaning against the stone balustrade. This had become her safe haven over the past two months. It was the only location that faced north, and if Mary turned herself westward slightly, she could imagine seeing over the rough channel waters all the way to England, and beyond to Scotland. She would bring her letters from Sebastian, and reread them in the setting sunlight. _Maybe he was standing on a similar balcony in Scotland, watching the poppies and bluebells dance in the Scottish breeze._ The thought brought a tear to Mary's eye.

Pulling his latest letter from her satchel, she held the folded pages against her heart before rereading. His letter was different than normal, for he carefully dictated the most beautiful verse she had ever heard.

_My Dearest Cousin,_

_I am having a wonderful time visiting with your mother and brother. James has interesting political ideologies, and it has made for the most stimulating conversation._

_I must share with you this poem I found after perusing your mother's library. I must say, it is most scandalous, but I think you might enjoy the prose.  
_

_If ever I would leave you_ _, it would not be in summer. Seeing you in summer, I never would go. Your hair streaked with sunlight, your lips red as flame. Your face with a luster, that puts gold to shame.  
_

_But if I would ever leave you, it could not be in autumn. How would I leave in autumn, I never will know. I have seen how you sparkle, when fall nips the air. I know you in autumn, and I must be there._

_And could I leave you, running merrily through the snow? Or on a wintry evening, when you catch the fire's glow?_

_If ever I would leave you, how could it be in spring-time? Knowing how in spring I am bewitched by you so?_

_Oh, no! not in spring-time! Summer, winter or fall! No, never could I leave you at all!_

_And with that, I will write my leave._

_With Devotion,_

_Henry_

Mary had read those words multiple times now, and each time her heart would flutter uncontrollably. Her mind would automatically drift back to imagine the nights she spent wrapped in Sebastian's arms. It was quite risky of him to write such words, but Mary thought he disguised their true intent enough to cover any suspicion. She shivered again, the words reeking further discomfort on her body. How she _missed_ him.

The sun was beginning to set, and atop the balcony, Mary felt a slight chill pass over her. _Something is not right_. She thought. She hurriedly refolded Sebastian's letter, and placed it in her satchel. Maneuvering with her swollen belly had become difficult over the past several weeks, but Mary was able to negotiate the stairway down from the balcony with grace. When she reached the main castle hallway, she knew something was really wrong.

Servants were rushing around haphazardly. One younger girl ran down the hall with an armful of sheets, mostly covered in blood. Mary's mind immediately went to Kenna, and she grabbed her belly instinctively.

_Kenna._

Dodging frantic servants, and trying to maintain a fast pace while she waddled, Mary finally turned the corner to the King's chambers' hallway. King Henry paced up and down the far left wall, a true look of worry and concern etched in the furrow of his brow. Francis paced along the other wall, one hand cupping his chin as he appeared deep in thought. He saw Mary, and started across the hall.

"Oh good, you are here. Kenna is in labor, but the midwife is concerned. She said there is too much blood."

Mary gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. More blood than usual during a babies delivery was never a good thing. She knew the dangers of childbirth, and bleeding to death was one of them.

"And the baby?" Mary whispered.

"She seems confident the baby will be alright, at least." Mary nodded, crossing herself, sending a prayer heavenward to protect Kenna and the baby.

A baby's cry filled the night, and Mary watched Henry sink to his knees, his forehead resting against the cold stone floor. Much to Mary's amazement, she could tell by his demeanor that Henry was truly concerned and elated over the birth of his child. He slapped the floor, laughing, and stood. He made the way to the door of the chamber, exercising his right as King to now enter. A few minutes later, Henry appeared in the doorway with a small bundle in his arms.

"Francis, come meet your baby sister." Francis and Mary approached King Henry, who was lovingly gazing upon his newborn daughter. The transformation of Henry from the callous ruler she knew, to this compassionate, adoring man was remarkable. She wished they could see this side of Henry more often. The baby stretched one arm out, a small cry escaping her parted lips. Henry passed the baby girl to Francis, who gingerly held her in his arms.

"Your Majesty?" Mary recognized Lady Agnes, her midwife, as she opened the door and beckoned King Henry in. The look on her face bothered Mary, but Agnes shut the door quickly behind the King.

Watching Francis with his new sister was intriguing. He held the child carefully, as if she might break at the slightest movement. But what she noticed the most was the same look of adoration that graced King Henry's face. Like father like son.

"Babies are a blessing, Mary, are they not?" He whispered, watching his sister struggle to open her eyes and look at him.

"Most assuredly they are." Mary replied, gently caressing her own belly. Seeing the child in his arms, Mary was anxious to hold her own son.

King Henry walked back out the door and stopped. He reached for the baby girl, and carefully held her close as Francis backed away. He kissed the child sweetly on her forehead, before passing her to a young woman who had been assisting Lady Agnes.

"Kenna is dead." He whispered toward Mary and Francis. Mary looked back at the door he just exited, realizing her worries for her friend had come true. Kenna had indeed bled to death. Mary looked at the child, realizing she would never meet her mother.

The only sound Mary heard was Henry's heavy footsteps as they dragged down the hall toward his own chambers, where he entered, and slammed the door.

* * *

Author's Additional Note: 'If Ever I Would Leave You' from the musical Camelot (one of my favorites). Lyrics written by Robert Goulet.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 400 followers! I am blown away. Thank you so much for your continued support! One Guest reviewer asked how many chapters were planned for this story. Honestly, I don't know. I had originally outlined 20, but I significantly derailed from my outline train, so we'll see. Current Answer? More than 20, just not sure how much more. There is a definitive ending in sight, however.
> 
> Also, having Kenna die in childbirth in the last chapter was a bit personal for me. When I had my own daughter, I experienced severe post-partum hemorrhaging, enough to require emergency surgery, and almost a blood transfusion. I feel very blessed to live with modern medicine, knowing many of the women in ages past were not so lucky.
> 
> Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More.
> 
> Chapter 16 Music: Bridge Over Troubled Water by Simon and Garfunkel
> 
> When you're weary / Feeling small  
> When tears are in your eyes / I will dry them all
> 
> I'm on your side / When times get rough  
> And friends just can't be found  
> Like a bridge over troubled water / I will lay me down  
> Like a bridge over troubled water / I will lay me down

Marie reread the most recent letter from her daughter. Her grandchild, well grandson as Henry had informed her, was due to greet the world during the summer. Mary had wished for her mother to be present at his birth. Between the lines, Marie understood Mary's unasked request to bring Henry back to France as well.

She had no real way of knowing if it would be safe for him to return, but if he arrived in France secretly, and under her protection, it might just be possible.

"Ah, Henry, thank you for joining me on this merry May morning." Marie greeted Henry as he joined her in her sitting room.

"You're welcome, Lady Regent. It is a beautiful day indeed." He replied, curious as to why the Regent asked for him this morning. They normally only shared an evening meal together, as he spent most of the day in the palace libraries, avoiding as many people as possible. He was offered asylum, yes, but that did not mean spies were not everywhere. He cautiously kept mostly to himself.

"I imagine you are curious as to my calling you here this morning?"

He nodded, attempting to control his nervous foot tapping as he sat across from Mary's mother. She reached for a letter on the table beside her, handing it out for him to take. Grasping the letter, and recognizing Mary's writing on the outer portion, his eyes widened, looking at Marie questioningly. "Well, go ahead. It is just her normal letter to me." She made a shooing motion with her hand and he chuckled.

He read the words carefully, obvious to the fact Marie _wanted_ him to see something specific. Most of the letter was filled with normal details of French court life and politics. Mary asked several questions of her mother regarding Scotland and her required stance, but nothing out of the normal.

Then, he read the last paragraph. Mary asked for her mother to come to the French court to be there for the birth of her grandchild. He felt as if there was a string attached to his heart, and someone had just tugged on it with all their might. Was that Mary's way of saying it was safe for him to come back? She would not expect her mother to come to France without him, would she?

"I see you understand Mary's implications as much as I did." Marie stated calmly, watching Henry's emotional reaction to Mary's written request. He grasped his chin in between his fingers, stroking the small beard that now covered his face thoughtfully.

"I want to be there for my son's birth." He whispered, not meeting the Regent's gaze. His eyes glossed over, lost in thought. He shook his head, trying to regain his composure, his fingers now wiping moisture from the corner of his eyes.

"As you will be. We must keep you a secret, though, even after we arrive. You still have not told me who you really are, and therefore I cannot know from whose threat I am protecting you." He nodded, still intent on not revealing his true identity, even to Mary's mother, at least not yet.

"Thank you." The words were heavy, meaning more than a simple thank you for taking him back to France. Those words encompassed so much more over the past few months.

"No, thank you. You are a delightful, yet humble young man Henry. I am glad to have gotten to know you better."

"When can we leave?" Knowing he was headed back to France, headed back to Mary and his child, his impatience got the better of him.

"Mary writes that the babe is not due until summer ..." The Regent could not finish her sentence before he interrupted.

"July." She looked quizzically at him.

"Oh, are you a midwife now?" Her words were laced with humor, which he greatly appreciated, and he laughed in kind. "No, but I know when the child was conceived, and the general duration of a pregnancy."

He very much remembered that evening. Though Mary never had the chance to tell him the details of Nostradamus' elixirs that Lola had confided, he innately knew his son was conceived that night. He had gone to Mary in such an state that evening. They both were in quite a state. He felt a hungry, burning desire he could not shake. He found himself at her secret passage door, almost without realizing his feet had moved. She had been beautiful, pacing her chambers in only her shift. Through the red and gold haze surrounding his vision, they had locked gazes. The last coherent thought he had was how much he wanted to touch her. How much he _needed_ to touch her.

He shook his head, knowing Mary's observant mother could see the blush invade his cheeks.

"Ah, yes, how I easily I forget you were there is person." She replied, winking at him. He chuckled in response, averting his eyes from the Regent. He had remembered an awkward conversation with Kenna once, regarding his father pursuing her. For him, this was infinitely more discomforting from a personal sense. He enjoyed being on a familiar level with the Regent, but thinking about bedding her daughter while in her presence was a different situation.

"Well, this is slightly awkward." He mumbled, trying to find the best way to change the conversation.

"It may be hard to comprehend, but I was young once." Marie laughed, then shuddered. "Honestly, I am glad those days are long past."

Silence pervaded the space between them, his original question of their departure date still unanswered.

"I am sorry, Henry, you had asked when we would leave to France." He nodded. "Well, I think we should not leave until sometime in June. It is not a terribly long journey, and first baby's are almost always late."

"Another month?" His tone suggested he would leave immediately if she willed it.

"Be patient, son. If you are still hunted, the more time you are here the better." Marie replied, moving to look out the window and admire the beautiful Scottish countryside.

"Patience has never been a virtue of mine." He joked.

"Obviously, look at the condition in which you left my daughter."

He winced. Mary had a sharp, witty tongue at times, and now he knew where she learned it all. He sighed.

"Well, I guess it is never to late to learn."

* * *

Mary laid in bed, multiple pillows bracing her back in an attempt at comfort. She could not sleep, not tonight. Her heart was in pieces with the death of her dear friend Kenna. Having been with her since childhood, her presence would be sorely missed. Mary wiggled back against the pillows, trying to find some much needed relief. Exasperated, and still in pain, Mary pounded her fist into her mattress, tears of both physical and emotional pain and heartache finally breaking her normally calm surface.

Her heart broke for Francis' new baby sister, who would never know her mother. One hand protectively curled around her own belly, sobs now shaking her body. Her thoughts traveled to the birth of her own son, and the fear of similar complications with his birth. More than ever, she wanted her mother to be with her. And if only Sebastian could come back, be with her and allow them a few minutes together as a family, in case anything went wrong, was more than she could hope for.

"Mary, are you still awake?" She could hear Greer's voice, but did not feel like moving her sore body towards the voice.

"Yes, Greer, please come sit." Mary felt the bed sink behind her back, and a hand begin to rub soothing circles on her sore muscles.

"Mary, you need a good cry. We all do." She whimpered. "I just cannot believe Kenna is gone."

"I know." Mary wished she had more comforting words, but she did not. She only had one request. "Please lay down, Greer. Let us visit for awhile, as we did as children."

Around the pillows, Greer reached her arm to hold Mary's affectionately. She spoke of memories of Kenna, as Mary listened to the comforting words. Greer continued for awhile, before she fell silent. Mary turned her head slightly, seeing Greer's blond waves.

"I am not asleep, Mary." Mary laughed. Greer always seemed to know exactly what Mary was thinking.

"How is Lola, and Aylee?" She whispered, not having had the opportunity to visit much with her other ladies this evening, the toll of Kenna's death affecting each one differently.

"Aylee cried herself to sleep, having talked to me awhile." Greer started, propping herself up on an elbow to keep Mary from straining to see her face. "And Lola is seeking comfort elsewhere." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Mary knew that meant she was with Nostradamus. She had been staying in his chambers since Mary was early in her pregnancy.

"Can you help me turn over?" Mary asked, and Greer moved immediately. Once Mary was settled, her back still propped with pillows, Greer snuggled back down on the other side, taking Mary's hands with hers. Watching her friend, Mary contemplated telling her about Sebastian, and their relationship. She hated thinking negatively about Kenna, but she could never risk telling her other ladies her secret, knowing Kenna might let it slip to the King. "Greer, can I tell you something."

"Of course, Mary, you can always tell me anything." Greer watched Mary curiously, not used to Mary sharing secrets recently.

"Will you promise to never speak of this to anyone?" Greer nodded, now thoroughly excited at what Mary might share. "Bash is not dead." Mary watched Greer's eyes widen, her mouth forming a small 'o'.

"What?" Greer asked, squeezing Mary's hands.

Lowering her voice to a whisper, she continued. "He is in Scotland, seeking refuge from my mother. When Henry and Francis left to visit England, Catherine hired mercenaries to hunt Sebastian down and kill him."

Greer gasped. "But why? What did he do?"

"Catherine felt threatened with my cousin now on the throne of England, a bastard herself." Mary paused, moving a hand to caress her belly, feeling her son's multiple kicks in response. She smiled. "Greer, what I will tell you next requires the utmost secrecy."

Greer nodded eagerly again, and Mary took Greer's hand in hers, placing it on her belly, still dancing as her son moved positions. "Sebastian is the baby's father." The words were barely audible, but if Greer could have fainted on the spot, she would have. She buried her head in the pillow, closing her eyes and shaking with laughter.

"You find this funny?" Mary asked incredulously, hurt by Greer's initial reaction.

"Oh no, Mary, I am relieved. I thought something might have been going on between you before he left. I assured myself I was only being daft!" Mary laughed in response, reaching for Greer and pulling her into a strange sideways hug.

"Oh Greer, it is such a relief to share my burden with you. I feel awful though, knowing I need to be praying for Kenna right now, and not worried about myself." The pain of losing Kenna washed anew over Mary, and she felt the weight of grief press against her again.

"Kenna knows of our prayers, and we will never forget her. If you feel up to it tomorrow, we can walk to the chapel and light a few candles in her honor." Greer suggested warmly.

"Thank you, Greer, that sounds lovely. Now, let us get some rest."

"One more thing, Mary, I overheard a few servants earlier. There are rumors Henry suspects Catherine gave Kenna something to induce her labor. You know how they despised each other." Mary's heart stopped, thinking someone, especially Catherine, might have tried to deliberately harm Kenna and the baby. "But I spoke with the midwife, Agnes. She assured me, outside of the abnormal bleeding, there was nothing unusual about her labor."

"If Catherine ..." Mary began, horrified by this news.

"No, Mary, it was not Catherine, but after losing Sebastian, and now Kenna, Henry might take his anger out Catherine." Greer shook her head, for it was hard to comprehend that Henry really did not lose Sebastian, but he thought he did. _Oh my, this is a lot of information to process,_ she thought.

"Well, I asked my mother to come to France for my baby's birth. If Bash can come back to court, maybe he can convince Henry of Catherine's true nature."

"We can hope." Greer replied. "Now, Mary, let us rest. Tomorrow is a new day."

"Please do not remind me. It is one more day for my back to ache and my feet to swell." Mary and Greer laughed together. "Just you wait, Greer, you will understand one day."


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your continued support and reviews! You all are amazing!
> 
> Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More.
> 
> Chapter 17 Music: Lone Ranger by Nate Sallie
> 
> I don't ever wanna be alone again / Now that I have found a love that never ends  
> Everything you are is all I hope to be / 'Cause You're the best thing that's happened to me

* * *

**_3 Months Previously_ **

For the next week, Mary sat silently by her window, her eyes watching the road. Even since Sebastian's body had been returned to court, she merely _existed._ Her days were but shadows of her former life, for her sun had set, with no signs of rising anytime soon.

"My dear, you must come out of this trance."

Mary whipped around, wildly staring down the stranger who had invaded her personal sanctuary. "Why were you not announced, Diane?"

"Oh, I was." She replied quietly. "But you were so deep in your thoughts, I entered anyway."

Mary nodded toward the chair across from her, the unspoken invitation breaking the tension.

"Thank you for his pendant. You could have kept the token of your only son for yourself, but your kindness is appreciated."

"He would have wanted you to have it." Diane replied. She looked towards the closed door, before lowering her voice and continuing. "He _loves_ you very much."

The choice of tense did not go unnoticed by Mary, her eyes boring into Diane's as she sat straighter in her chair.

"What do you know? You warned me not is all as it seems." Mary reached a hand out for Diane's, grasping it firmly. For the first time, she really studied Diane's face. Sebastian inherited many of his father's features, but still, the way Diane's eyes held hers unwaveringly, or the way she tilted her head before speaking, reminded Mary much of him. The pangs of longing, and grief surfaced again, and Mary tried to push the feelings aside. They were never buried deep, but she had managed to maintain her stoic facade, no one knowing a mere pebble would bring it shattering around her.

"He sent me a brief note right before he left. He planned to fake his death, throw Catherine's dogs off his trail, but he told me none of the details." Diane replied.

Mary felt the air leave her lungs, and she gasped for breath. _He might be alive!_ She thought. But then whose body was brought to court, all beaten and bloody.

"So, he is alive." Mary whispered, her hand grasping her throat in disbelief.

"I do not know, Mary. I pray he is, for he is a smart boy." Diane hesitated, a tear drifting down her cheek. "We must hold out hope that he made it to Scotland unharmed, but I am bracing myself for the worst possibility."

Continuing her original dislike for Sebastian's mother was becoming difficult for Mary. She could see the mother's pain and worry over her child, and as Mary's thoughts drifted to her own unborn child, she knew how horrible the feeling must be. Could she bear waiting for news of whether her child lived or died? A child she had carried inside her for nine months. A child she had nurtured, and loved. No, it would be too much to ask any mother, even Diane.

"Mary, promise me to take care of his child." The tears cascaded down Diane's cheeks, and Mary glimpsed the terrified mother present under Diane's many protective layers. Diane had left her seat, kneeling in front of Mary and capturing her hands against her cheek. Mary could almost taste Diane's salty tears as they caressed her fingers. "The child may be all we have left of him."

Mary found herself almost immediately on the floor beside Diane, arms wrapped around the older woman's shoulders. They cried together, each other's hands gently patting the other's hair. Pulling away, Mary steadied Diane by her arms, resiliently trying to regain her own composure.

"I do not claim to understand how Go truly works, Diane, but I do know he brought Sebastian in to my life when we needed each other the most. He would not take him from me, from us, so soon."

"You have more faith than I, Mary, for I have seen the cruelties of this world."

"Faith is all I have now, Diane." Mary pulled Diane's hand against her own chest, clutching it closely. "Plus, my heart says he is still alive. I would know if he left our world." Mary whispered, hoping earnestly her words would be true. "Diane, when Sebastian returns to court, let us find a way to finally bring Catherine's deceitfulness to light."

Mary watched Diane's features as they morphed from sadness to determination. She pulled a hand away, to wipe a few stray tears from her cheeks. The smile that invaded her cheeks unnerved Mary, for there was a darkness present.

"I would like nothing more than to remove her from her pedestal." Diane hissed.

"I am sure you would." Mary replied cautiously. "But let us step back for a moment, and first pray for Sebastian's safe return to court." Silently, Mary prayed for not only for her precious Sebastian's life, but also for the darkness to lift from Diane. Catherine would reap her due reward, that was for sure, but Mary prayed fervently for Diane, for revenge was never the answer.

* * *

**_Present_ **

Larger hands stilled hers, and she shivered. "Allow me." His gruff voice flowed over her ear and down her neck.

"Have you been awake this whole time?" Lola managed to whisper before she gasped, his hands trailing gently down her bared back.

"I have been waiting, patiently, for you." The intimacy of his tone thrilled Lola. They still had not been completely intimate in their relationship, both a little afraid and both a little nervous. But Lola noticed not a trace of shyness tonight. His hands were moving with a purpose.

"Have you really?" She replied jokingly, a sly smile gracing her lips as she turned to face him, her dress now barely hanging hanging on her shoulders. She took the first step, lifting the remnants of her dress over her head, the moonlight from the window ghosting quietly over her curves. She heard his intake of breath, and felt his rough hands grasped her exposed hips, tugging her firmly into his lap. As he sat up, Lola could see the harsh scars across his chest, scars he earned over many years of taunting. She allowed her fingers to lightly trace the raised flesh on his right chest, a small but wide wound. She wanted to kiss away these horrid memories for him.

"Do they disgust you?" His voice startled her, but she shook her head. No, she was not disgusted _at_ him. But she was disgusted _for_ him.

"By no means, for they are a part of you, and I love every part." Her hands cupped his cheeks, aligning their faces so their noses gently brushed, eliciting a small smile from both parties. Closing the small distance, she poured the strength of her previous words into her lips, moving her mouth with an ardent determination. Nostradamus' hands clung desperately to her hips, nails digging in to the soft flesh.

She gasped at the motion, feeling his sudden possessiveness. Feeling emboldened, she swayed her hips suggestively. As the sliver of moonlight from his small window provided the only light, she could barely see the way his eyes darkened, or how his muscles tensed instinctively. Instead, her world turned upside down, suddenly feeling his weight pressed against her sweetly.

Staring intently at each other, the moments ticked by hesitantly. Neither spoke, but that did not matter. Nostradamus felt amazed to be in such a position with Lola, a woman he had admired, and loved, for months. Curly waves of dark hair spread around her face like an angel, and as she smiled, all he saw were plump lips that needed kissing. He knew no question needed to be asked, for she allowed her body to fit against his perfectly in an open invitation.

He watched her as they moved together, enjoyment and pleasure written clearly across her face. Unfortunately, within seconds his vision went hazy, a clear sign to him of a forthcoming vision. Their bodies continued to dance as one, but as his vision cleared, it was Mary's face gazing lovingly up at him, not Lola's. He felt embarrassed, seeing Mary in a state he honestly had never imagined.

He felt his own motions slow, watching as Mary raised a hand to brush lightly against his cheek, her soft fingers whispering over his skin. "Oh Bash, the things you do." Mary sighed contentedly. He heard the sudden rapping on the door, and saw Mary tense, motioning for him to hide under the covers near the foot of the bed. She hastily threw a robe around her shoulders, before acknowledging the knock.

He saw Bash's hand lift the covers, eying the guard covertly. "Your Majesty, I am sorry to awaken you, but I come with news. The King is dead."

Nostradamus blinked, Lola's face appearing again beneath him, brows furrowed. "Why did you stop?" Her voice was almost a whimper. As he regained the senses of his body, he realized his vision had lasted a few seconds at most, but it had taken him completely off guard.

Thinking quickly of an excuse, he muttered the first thing he could think of, and as he said it, he knew there was some truth in the statement. "I do not want this to end too quickly." Lola laughed, pulling him flush against her again.

"We have all night."

Playing into her game, he replied jokingly, winking in turn, "I thought you were miserably tired?"

"Was I?" She giggled, her laugh turning rapidly to a soft moan when he started moving again. Pushing his vision to the back of his mind, Nostradamus vowed to worry about it in the morning. For the time, he vowed to focus his attention on Lola.

And only Lola.

* * *

Marie began making the preparations for their departure to France. In less than two weeks, they would cross the dreaded English Channel, assuming the weather was fine. The seas were always tumultuous through the Channel, and she liked to blame the English themselves, for all they did was cause trouble in her eyes. Sighing, she brought her attention back to the small garments she had laid out. The first was Mary's Christening gown, an amazing spectacle of beads and tatting. The other was her own Christening garment. Marie was surprised it had survived all these years, and through all her various travels.

Carefully folding the dresses, she placed them gently in a small chest, nestling it within her own travel trunk. Even if the child was not the _true_ heir of France and Scotland, they would be treated as the heir, and would need all forms of regality one could afford. Placing her hands on the small chest, Marie whispered a Scottish blessing for her unborn grandchild. " _Beannachd Dia dhuit_."

"That is beautiful, my Lady Regent." Henry spoke, standing in the open doorway to the Regent's chambers.

"Oh my, you startled me, young man. Though why should I be startled? I sent for you." He laughed lightly, inclining his head in agreement. "Yes, well, I assume you are all packed?"

"Yes, but I thought we were not leaving for another week or so?"

"Right you are. I was checking to see if you learnt any patience, and I see you have not." Marie smiled genuinely at Henry, knowing his heart ached to be back in France, be back with Mary. He hung his head in defeat.

"Apparently there are some things I will never learn." He chuckled in return. "But I would like to learn the meaning of those words you spoke?"

Marie nodded, beckoning him to come closer. When he hesitated, she sighed. "Oh come now, I am not that frightening." She reached an arm out, practically dragging him over to her trunk, opening the small chest inside. She saw the smile blossom across his face at the sight of the baby garments. " _Beannachd Dia dhuit._ It means blessings of God be with you."

"My son will need all the blessings he can get, so thank you." Henry replied genuinely, fingering the lace edgings of Mary's own Christening gown. Marie placed her hand upon Henry's arm in comfort.

"Do not worry, Henry, he is in good hands."

"If you mean Mary, then yes, he is in the best hands possible." He replied, his eyes not leaving the garment.

"And you will be right there with them, in whatever capacity possible. I have taken you under my protection, as Mary asked, and once we get to France, I will work with her on making sure you are no longer hunted."

He felt a little weight lift off his shoulders, knowing being with Mary and his child would effectively erase all other weight. But at the moment, he was appreciative of all the acceptance and kindness exhibited by Mary's mother, a woman who barely knew him. He knew not how to repay her generosity, but he was determined to find a way.

"Yes, well, before we get all teary-eyed, let us get back to the business at hand. You will need to travel to France with me in secrecy, and by secret, I do not mean hidden. Let them gossip about the hooded warrior by my side."

Henry was impressed by the Regent's ingenuity. After having spent several months with her, her abilities rivaled those of Queen Catherine, but in a much more positive light.

"If you think it is best." He replied.

"I do, and be relieved it is only temporary." She paused, noting it was getting late. "Now, let us ready for dinner. This day is almost over, and it is one more day closer to us leaving."

"And you call me the impatient one?" He replied, and together they shared a hearty laugh.

* * *

Most of the passengers on the ship remained holed away in their cabins, the rocky waters of the Channel causing a strong bout of sea sickness. Gripping the rail, Sebastian inhaled the salty sea spray, enjoying the mist whipping against his face. For a moment, he was glad to be Sebastian, and not _Henry_.

Looking across the brow, he willed the winds to blow faster, the ship to move quicker through the rough waters.

"I am coming, Mary. I will be home soon."


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited we will be getting a 2nd season of Reign! Woo-Hoo! Thank you so much for your continued support and reviews! You all are amazing!
> 
> Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More.
> 
> Chapter 18 Music: I Drove All Night - Cyndi Lauper
> 
> What in this world / Keep us from tearing apart  
> No matter where I go I hear / The beating of your heart  
> I think about you / When the night is cold and dark  
> No one can move me / The way that you do  
> Nothing erases the feeling between me and you
> 
> I drove all night to get to you / Is that alright?  
> I drove all night / Crept in your room  
> Woke you from your sleep / To make love to you  
> Is that alright? / I drove all night

Sebastian eagerly jumped over the railing of the ship, feet landing with a splash on the rocky shore. After a horrible sail across the Channel, they had finally beached on the northern shores of France. It would be short travel from here, and Sebastian pondered just sneaking a horse and making a break for it.

"I would not, if I were you." Marie spoke behind him, having exited the ship much more gracefully than he.

"I know. I am just eager to be home." He acknowledged, the seconds being spent on shore without moving onwards were agonizing for Sebastian.

"This is another lesson in patience."

"Damn patience!" He cried, kicking the French soil with his foot. "I am mere hours away from the two things I hold most dear in this life, and you still speak to me of patience?"

Marie just laughed in response, walking by him and moving further onshore.

"Are you just going to laugh at me then?" Sebastian spoke quietly, exasperated at the Regent's response. She turned around, making her way back toward him. Holding his face in her hands, she smiled.

"It would not be so funny if you were not so in love." She patted one cheek gently, before motioning him forward. "Come, let us find get your horse ready. You are to be our lead, and I can grant you one thing." She paused, watching for his reaction. "You can set the pace home."

* * *

By the second week of June, Mary could barely walk any distance without assistance. The midwife wanted her to go ahead and enter her confinement, but Mary had no interest in being sequestered in her darkened room just yet. Instead, she stood along the outer balcony to her room, the summer breeze ruffling her hair. She was watching for her mother. A courier had arrived not two hours earlier, announcing Marie de Guise's imminent arrival. Elated, Mary had kept a diligent watch ever since then.

Her hand trembled, and her heart beat erratically. Had Sebastian accompanied her mother? She hoped beyond all things he had.

"Anxious to see your mother?" Mary turned to acknowledge Francis' arrival by her side. As her belly grew, he had kept his distance, otherwise occupied. Occasionally though, he would show his love for her and the child, but those moments had grown fleeting. After Kenna passed away, he had hardly spent any time with Mary at all.

"Most definitely. It is a comfort to have one's mother close at a time like this."

Horses hooves wrung out from the gate, and Mary's gaze found her mother's carriage as it came to halt at the end of the castle promenade. She saw her mother's elegant figure descend from the carriage, four hooded guards making their way around the carriage to surround her figure. Mary's curiosity was peaked, for she had never seen such guards. _Maybe things have changed in Scotland since I left?_ She wondered.

"Those guards seem a bit much." Francis mumbled, unamused, but Mary remained quiet. The guard on the back right side held her interest. His gait was different from the others as they approached the castle entrance, and it seemed very familiar.

As King Henry's voice boomed in welcoming, Mary turned to begin the now long trek, for her at least, to the throne room to welcome her mother. Above all else, she wanted a moment alone with her mother, wanting to see Sebastian if he was here, and how could she see him. Francis kept her company along the way, holding an arm for her to steady herself as she waddled. As they turned the corner to throne room, Mary could hear her mother's calming voice.

"Mother?" Mary exclaimed, a broad smile gracing her face.

"Mary! Oh my dear, just look at you! You are absolutely glowing." Marie hurriedly scampered up to Mary, wrapping her arms around her daughter and pulling her close. Mary had not felt those arms around her in many years, and their warmth was just as comforting as when she was a child. Mary started to pull back, but her mother's strong embrace held her fast. "No worries, my daughter, he is here and safe." She whispered.

Choking back a sob, Mary nodded into her mother's shoulder, barely managing to whisper a 'thank you' before she pulled away, masking both her surprise and her unyielding joy. Mary slowly followed her mother into the throne room, meeting Aylee and Greer halfway and allowing them to help her to a chair. Part of her sat calmly, listening to her mother exchange pleasantries with Henry and Catherine; the other part of her wanted to get up and dance, screaming with happiness and joy. Sebastian was here, somewhere in the castle. And he was safe. The only outward sign of her impatience came from her foot, tapping jerkily against the floor.

As nothing of major consequence to Mary was being discussed, Mary's attention drifted back to the hooded guards accompanying her mother. Especially one of the two who stood in back, for he was fidgeting almost as much as she was. He constantly shifted his weight back and forth, a continually swaying motion of black next to three otherwise stoic guards. She watched as he clasped and unclasped his hands in either nervousness or anxiety. Inwardly, Mary laughed at the young guard's apparent uncomfortable nature. Smiling, she shook her head, moving to turn her attention back to her mother.

And then she stopped. Her thoughts officially caught up with her vision, and her movements faltered. The antsy guard, he was the one who walked strangely into the castle, very unlike a guard in her opinion. Now, he appeared to want to be anywhere than where he currently was. Fighting the urge to run to him, she turned her eyes back towards him, willing him to look up. Unlike the visibility of the rest of his movements, his head tilted almost imperceptibly, and Mary knew. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt it was him. It was Sebastian.

If the throne room had been empty, she would have run to him immediately. In her mind, she could envision his smile as he scooped her up in his arms, twirling her around and pulling her close. She could almost feel the pressure of his lips on hers, causing the deep ache within her. She could see him kneeling before her, affectionate hands on her belly, amazed at the life they created together. And then she heard him say her name.

_Mary?_

"Mary? Did you hear me?" Aylee's face swam into view, a concerned look stamped upon her usually carefree face. Glancing behind Aylee, Mary's heart sunk. The guards, along with her mother, had already left the throne room. Had she missed that much?

"I am sorry, Aylee, my mind was elsewhere. What were you asking?" Her deception went unnoticed to her young lady-in-waiting, and instead Aylee rattled on about returning to Mary's chambers for the afternoon, with the possibility of dinner there with her mother.

"Yes, that sounds wonderful." Aylee and Greer stepped up to help Mary stand, and they headed towards her chambers.

* * *

Dinner had been a quiet affair, as Mary's ladies requested they eat in her chambers, which was more comfortable for Mary. The hours between seeing her mother and now had ticked by excruciatingly slow. Her mother had disappeared after their initial meeting, and she had no idea where Sebastian was without asking her mother first. She sighed, gently rubbing the small of her back as she lounged against a pile of pillows. She and her ladies sat comfortably on the floor of her room, a small fire lit only for light. Even though it was June, the evenings were cool. Having retired to only her evening shift, Mary was still uncomfortable. Being so heavy with child, Mary felt warmth no matter where she was, or what she wore.

"It is moments like this when I truly miss Kenna." Aylee whispered. Mary and the others nodded in agreement.

"We must make sure young Grace never forgets her mother." Greer added sadly.

In reflection, Mary gently patted her belly. She wanted her son to be healthy and perfect, but if he came tomorrow it would not be a day too soon. Her whole body hurt, her tiny frame having difficulty with the extra added weight. She knew she would miss the moments of feeling him kick or squirm, but holding him in her arms would be infinitely better.

"Aylee, can you help me up? I would like to stretch my legs for just a minute." Mary asked, raising a hand for Aylee to help pull her to her feet.

"Let me."

All time and motion stood still. Aylee gasped as she turned her head, and Greer, though startled, wore a happy smile across her face. Mary's heart stopped at the sound of that voice. A voice she had been longing to hear for more than four months. A voice a part of her thought she would never hear again. A voice that could whisper her name as if in prayer one moment, and then scream it out in pleasure the next. A silence permeated her chambers, only broken by his footsteps as he approached, reaching arms out under her own to help her stand.

"Is this a dream?" Mary asked, a trembling hand reaching to stroke his cheek. "I am afraid if I touch you, you will vanish."

"It is me, in the flesh." He chuckled. Mary barely acknowledged her mother, standing in the threshold of the open secret passageway door from where he had quietly emerged. Her eyes were only for Sebastian, as her peripheral vision faded away. All she saw was the man in front of her, the man she loved dearly.

Having waited long enough to touch him, Mary threw her arms around his neck, burying her head in his shirt. She breathed him in, the smell of earth, of man, and of home. It was a bit of an awkward position, with her expanse of belly between them, but they managed. Mary reluctantly removed herself away from his arms, only to lace her fingers through this hair and pull his face to hers. She felt as if she had waited an eternity to taste his lips again, and feel their firm movements against hers.

They both felt the spark of longing from their time apart, as his lips eagerly sought hers. Forgetting they had an audience still, Mary parted her lips, welcoming his tongue to tease hers. It was passionate, sensuous, and powerful, but mostly, it was filled with love. Sebastian had obviously forgotten they were not alone as well, as one arm circled around her shoulders while the other ghosted lightly down her cheek, traveling over her neck and over her breast.

"Okay, children, before things get too carried away let us have a nice, short visit." Marie finally spoke emerging from the passage doorway, closing the door behind her. "Then we can leave you too alone."

When Mary and Sebastian turned towards her, Marie could see the tears glistening in the corner of their eyes. They were beyond happy to be together again.

Mary remained within Sebastian's arms, turning to face her mother. "I can never repay you for protecting Sebastian."

"There is no need to repay me, my daughter. You asked me, and I did all I could." She paused, having caught Mary's use of his real name. "So you are Sebastian? King Henry's eldest son? Well, that explains your story a bit better then."

"Mother, it was Queen Catherine who threatened his life. She thought he might try and overthrow Francis." Mary pleaded, hoping Marie might have some idea for the next best course of action.

"I am beginning to put the pieces together." Marie replied, pacing across the end of the room. "Let us not do anything before morning, and that means not revealing that you are here, Sebastian." Marie pointedly looked not only at him, but towards Aylee and Greer who immediately nodded, acknowledging the weight of Marie's words.

"I want King Henry to understand the gravity of what Catherine has done!" Mary exclaimed, raising her voice to a Queenly status.

"As he will, my child. Let us tell him he is alive and well first, before throwing him into the fray." Marie suggested, watching her daugher's reaction.

"Yes, that is good. If we can somehow trend the conversation to Sebastian and Kenna, we might be able to provoke Henry, for there are rumors he thinks Catherine is involved in these recent underhanded doings." Mary thought aloud. Her mother's head bobbed in agreement, but she clapped her hands together solidly once, gathering everyone's attention.

"Well, I think that is enough worry for tonight. My daughter, I am so pleased to see you." Marie gave Mary her first true hug since she arrived, holding her only daughter close.

"I am pleased to see you too, mother." Mary returned the sentiment, watching her mother turn and clasp Sebastian on the shoulder, giving it a squeeze before opening the main door to Mary's chamber and regally exiting. Greer and Aylee bid their good nights, and Mary heard Greer whisper 'I will explain everything' as she ushered Aylee towards their ladies' rooms.

And then they were alone.

And just like her daydream, Sebastian crumpled to his knees in front of Mary, resting his ear against her belly and encircling her waist with his arms. Mary watched him in wonder, still amazed he was real, and in front of her. Her hands ruffled his hair, having missed the feel of strands between her fingers.

"I can hear his heartbeat." His voice was filled with awe, and in that moment, Mary felt utterly complete.

"I dreamed of this moment, Sebastian."

"As have I. I promised you I would return." He replied, standing to look at Mary earnestly. He looked a little worse for the wear, but he was everything in her eyes.

"Do not ever leave us again. I could not bear it." Mary commanded, placing a finger under his chin and holding his gaze firm.

"Believe me, I will never leave either of you. Ever." He raised his hands to cup her face, his penetrating stare sending shivers down Mary's spine. Leaning forward, he rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. "Mary, there is a lot I need to explain..."

"Yes, but it can all wait until morning. For right now, I cannot wait for you."

When her lips met his, she sighed. All the questions she had needed ask about his time in Scotland, the body that was brought back to French Court, all of it disappeared. All that filled her thoughts now was him, his lips pressing greedily against hers and his hands roaming over her back. Before any words were spoken, she needed to feel that he was real.

She did not know when her feet started moving, or how her hands fisted into his shirt, but she pulled him backwards. She stopped when her back bumped against the side of her bed, but their lips continued dancing. He had paused several times to whisper her name against her lips, but he never stopped for long.

"Mary, is this wise? Could it hurt our baby?" He finally pulled himself away long enough to ask the question. He had assumed there would be no intimate relations with her until after their son was born, but Mary's apparent willingness made him question.

"It may be a bit different, but just be gentle. I miss you too much to not be with you."

He helped Mary onto the bed, removing his shirt and joining her quickly. He laughed as she tried unsuccessfully to remove her shift.

"Please quit laughing and help me." Mary giggled, feeling the relief the cool air brought to her overheated pregnancy skin. "Thank you. I was wretchedly hot in that thing." Mary laid herself gently backwards, the weight of her belly dictating where she laid.

Placing a hand reverently on the swell of his child, Sebastian sighed sadly. "I have missed so much. I wanted to be there for you every step of the way." The sadness in his voice was reflected in his eyes.

"You will be here for the most important part, and that is all that matters to me." Mary smiled, and was rewarded at the smile that changed the entire complexion of his face.

"There is nothing more beautiful than you, in this moment." His words amplified the ache in her heart and body for him. She blushed under his intense gaze, for his eyes roamed her body as if for the first time. They paused on her belly, and the love she saw in their green depths was indescribable. "I still cannot believe our love made this child."

"Babies are a blessing, Bash. Just wait until you can hold him in your arms." Mary paused, enjoying the sensations his hands created by rubbing gentle circles on her baby swell. "Now, enough talk." She giggled, feeling his weight shift cautiously around her so he could bend his head down to her level. He kissed her sweetly, still thinking he must be in a dream, and any moment he would be awakened by Kingston knocking on his door.

But a knock never came, and Mary's lips never left his. Shifting to slide out of his trousers, he settled behind Mary, his chest pressed against her back. Wrapping an arm under her breasts, he snuggled against her, kissing a path down her shoulders. A small laugh escaped Mary's lips, as she forgot how his facial hair tickled her skin.

"I do have one question I need to ask." Mary hesitated, enjoying the feel of him behind her too much. "Why did you grow a beard?"

"I thought it would help cover my identity. Do you not like it?" His words were spoken between kisses down her back.

"No, it suits you."

"I am glad you like it. I have gotten quite used to it myself." He chuckled and Mary laughed heartily as well. He took the opportunity to rub his free hand down her side, ghosting over of her breast, coming to rest on the edge of her hip. Mary's breath caught in her throat, and she reflexively bent her knees upward. Sebastian bent his knees in response, protectively shielding the two things that mattered most to him.

"I love you so much, both of you."

"And we love you." Mary reached an arm backwards in reassurance, aching to touch whatever part of him was within her grasp. His hand met hers halfway, and he moved them together to her hip, entwining their fingers.

Though an awkward angle, he twisted his hips enough to join their bodies. Together they groaned, and Sebastian halted.

"Is this okay? I would never forgive myself..."

"More than okay. You will not hurt him."

Placing his lips against the back of her neck, he began his motions slowly. Tonight was not about the act itself. No, tonight was proving they both existed, together in the same space and time. Mary rocked her hips with his, able to help him with the different position. Much like their first time, euphoric release happened faster than they wanted, but neither cared.

Mary cautiously rolled over, aiming to snuggle her head into his chest. She tossed her right leg over his, letting it rest gently between his thighs. As the weight of her belly finally relaxed against his stomach, Sebastian groaned.

"How are you able to walk with the weight?" He asked seriously, splaying a hand across her belly.

"It is difficult at times, but we women can do a lot for the sake of our children." Her fingers drummed against his chest as she spoke. In response, her belly moved dramatically and Mary tensed for a moment, sighing when the movement ceased. Sebastian's eyes widened, unsure what to make of the sudden movement.

"What did I just see?" He whispered.

"That was our son. He decided to roll over and kick me in the ribs. Not very pleasant, actually." Mary replied, a smile teasing her face.

"And I have been messing all of this? Oh Mary, can you ever forgive me?" He angled his head down to place a reverent kiss on her lips.

"Can I forgive you for saving your own life? Yes, a hundred times over."

Neither spoke for a moment, basking in both the glow of their love-making, and also just their general proximity to the other. Tomorrow would be a brand new day, and having Sebastian back at her side made everything worthwhile.

"Let us rest, dear." She whispered against his skin. Her lips lightly tasted the salty sheen on his chest as she spoke. "I think tomorrow will be a grand day." She lifted her head from his chest, watching his eyes. Placing one last kiss for the evening on her lips, Sebastian pulled her close, realizing Marie had been right. His son had been in the best of hands.

"Will you promise to always kiss me goodnight?" Mary asked sleepily, her eyes drifting closed even as she spoke.

"For you, always." He whispered, closing his eyes and allowing himself to succumb to slumber.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that last episode (episode 13) was brutal. Anyways. Thank you so much for your continued support and reviews! You all are amazing! Just a few chapters left.
> 
> Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More.
> 
> Chapter 19 Music: You Don't Own Me by Lesley Gore (one of my all-time favorite songs)
> 
> You don't own me, I'm not just one of your many toys  
> You don't own me, don't say I can't go with other boys
> 
> And don't tell me what to do / And don't tell me what to say  
> And please, when I go out with you / Don't put me on display, 'cause
> 
> You don't own me, don't try to change me in any way  
> You don't own me, don't tie me down 'cause I'd never stay
> 
> Oh, I don't tell you what to say / I don't tell you what to do  
> So just let me be myself / That's all I ask of you
> 
> I'm young and I love to be young / I'm free and I love to be free  
> To live my life the way I want / To say and do whatever I please

As if the sun itself was reigning down on Mary, waking to the warmth of Sebastian's arms was as splendid as the sun's golden rays. She has missed the feeling of him laying behind her, his arms protectively encasing her body. Even in sleep, his first response was to protect her person. Knowing how defensive Sebastian could be over just her, Mary could only imagine the parental instincts that their son would unveil from him, as her own maternal instincts were currently ruling her judgment.

When reality set back in, Mary understood much needed to be accomplished today. Speaking with her mother as soon as possible was a must. They had to devise a plan for ensnaring Catherine with her schemes and lies, hopefully revealing all to King Henry, Francis, and to her wishful delight, the entire French court. Mary remembered the vindictiveness Diane exuded when they discussed bringing Catherine's treachery to light. At the time, Mary had been repulsed by the strength of Diane's anger and need for revenge. But now, she understood. As a soon-to-be mother, she definitely comprehended the need to protect one's child above all else. The sooner all could be revealed and accomplished the better, for Mary did not think her already strained body could handle much more stress. The stress would soon be over, as Mary was excitedly counting the days until she would meet her son.

Turning over, Mary winced as her son kicked in response to the position change. The shifting of the bed in reaction to the sudden weight change awoke Sebastian, his eyes rapidly blinking as if assessing whether his surroundings were real. Though we knew the reality, it was still hard to imagine he was back in France, with Mary. He was home.

"I dreamed this was all a dream, and I would awaken again in Scotland." He whispered slowly, but then he smiled. "But I am so happy to see it was not a dream."

"As am I." Mary replied, returning Sebastian's smile. "Today will be an important day."

"Yes, I believe it will be." He sighed, not fully ready to reveal that he was most happily alive. Living in secret was taxing, but at the same time is was also very liberating.

"I must find my mother, and the we must organize a plan of attack." Mary began, her mind racing with ideas. They could not just simply tell Henry that Sebastian was alive. They needed the implication of Catherine's hand in the matter, and then have him revealed. Just thinking about the details gave Mary a headache.

"Will this be a full scale attack? Or just a small squirmish?" The humor and light in his eyes was one of his attributes Mary missed most. "I never meant to start a war."

"You have not started a war, but I will." Mary laughed, the implied humor darker than Sebastian's momentary cheekiness. "And I, for one, will find Catherine's fall most exhilarating."

"You play with fire when assaulting Catherine, and I will not have her harming you or our son." The fierceness in his eyes ignited a fire within Mary. He was her support, and her strength. She could accomplish anything if he was at her side, even toppling Catherine from her mighty throne.

"She will not have the chance." Mary replied confidently.

* * *

Upon dressing, Mary made haste to speak with her mother, and together they came to a resolution. Sebastian has hidden himself away again, prepared to be a hooded guard again until the time was right to reveal his identity.

After devising the plan with her mother, Mary spent the rest of the morning resting her aching feet. She would need her strength that afternoon, and she wanted to be ready physically, mentally, and emotionally to whatever Catherine might throw back at her. When it was time to meet her mother in the throne room, Mary took one last deep breath, steadying herself on her feet, ready to begin the long journey ahead. If all went as planned, Sebastian would be revealed, and Catherine would be exposed for the deviant she was.

As Mary entered the throne room, she caught a glimpse of her mother, already deep in conversation with King Henry. Catherine listened attentively, but looked rather bored with the process. Francis stood near his father, half-listening, half-making eyes at his mistress, Alice. It was interesting to Mary that Alice was still a favorite of his, for most women he loved he left shortly thereafter, Mary included, even after professing his undying love and affection.

"Ah, Mary, so good of you to join us. I trust you had a wonderful evening?" The emphasis on 'wonderful' did not go unnoticed by Mary. Even though it had been a long time since Mary saw her mother, Mary never forgot her brazen humor.

She nodded, before speaking herself. "It was quite delightful, actually, making up for lost time."

The cryptic words meant nothing to anyone except Marie, or Mary's ladies, you occupied space along the back wall. When Mary had first entered, she noted Aylee appeared her usual self. She would need to thank Greer later for soothing over the shock of learning Sebastian was alive.

Thinking of Bash, Mary glanced behind her and saw her hooded figure slip in the throne room, blending in with her Mother's other guards. A quick flutter of nervousness coursed through Mary, but she pushed it aside. She was confident everything would go as they planned.

"I am sorry I did not mention this sooner, but I meant to offer my condolences, Your Majesty, on the passing of your eldest son. Be assured Scotland grieved with you." Marie spoke gently to Henry, whose face saddened with the reminder of Sebastian's death. If Mary was truly honest with herself, sadness and anger appeared quite similar written across his face.

"Good news travels fast, I see." Catherine's words were quiet, but anyone within the quiet throne room heard them quite clearly.

"Be quiet, woman!" Henry snarled at Catherine. Marie watched in delight as the two quarreled. She nodded once to Mary. Now she would throw the old dog another bone.

"And we were also saddened by the news of the passing of our own Scottish subject, your mistress Kenna. It has been a dark year at the French Court." Mary smiled at her mother's calm demeanor and genuine sadness she displayed, for Marie knew Kenna and did mourn her passing.

"Oh good grief." Catherine muttered.

"I said be quiet, woman!" Henry bellowed. Catherine rolled her eyes, and Henry's anger only mounted. Marie de Guise seized the moment, the emotional tension between the sovereigns extremely palpable.

"I have heard rumors that mercenaries were sent after your son, by someone in your own court." Henry's ears perked up at her words.

"No doubt. In fact, I would not be surprised if you had your hands in this, _wife_ , as you dabble in so many dark arts."

Catherine sighed, having been through this conversation with Henry before, though never quite so publicly.

"Now why would I do that." Her words were laced with exasperation.

"Because you feared Bash would try and overthrow Francis." Mary took the initiative to interject herself into the conversation, having just caught her mother's eye and given the go ahead nod.

"What is this now, Mary?" Francis stepped forward, attentive now the accusations against his mother were being spoken.

"Oh come now, Mary, this is silly." Catherine muttered, but Mary could see the hint of fear in her eyes. "This point is mote now, so let us move to more enlightening topics."

Mary motioned behind her back. On cue, the hooded guard near the back of the room stepped forward, pushing back his hood and revealing his face.

"Yes, let us talk about the fact that I am alive." A hush filled the throne room, and Mary watched as Catherine's eyes widened in confusion.

"You should be dead!" Catherine barked, rising from her throne. Henry glanced between the two.

"So it was you!" His anger showed in his reddening cheeks and flaring nostrils. Mary took a step back from the pair, as did her Mother.

"Did you honestly expect anything else from me?" She hissed, the serpent inside bristling. "He is a threat to Francis, everyone knows it."

"And what about Kenna?" The burning anger in Henry was replaced by a more scary emotionless facade. He was at his deadliest when you least expected it.

"No, even I would not stoop that low, but thank you for assuming I would." Catherine spoke with a vengeful sarcasm.

Henry moved down from his throne, pacing in front the dais. He stopped for a moment, and moved abruptly to embrace Sebastian. It was a simple hug, but from Henry it spoke volumes. He turned back toward Catherine, a very calculating gleam in his eye.

"Executing you would be too easy, so I must find a more fitting punishment." Though Catherine was still seated on her throne, her feathers were most obviously ruffled. "Do you remember what the other King Henry did to his wife? The English King from our own Normandy?"

"You mean Eleanor of the Aquitaine, I have heard the story."

"Yes, he imprisoned her, continually changed the location of her entombment." Henry paused, watching the impact of the words on Catherine. "I think I shall have fun with your punishment. You see, you will never be allowed to have contact with Francis again."

"How dare you!"

"You understand, that was the other fault of Eleanor. She tried to encourage a revolt against her husband, the King, led by her own son. I studied history in order to never repeat it. And the way I see it, you cannot have contact with any of your children ever again."

Catherine paled, her normally stoic features beginning to waver. Catherine's eyes followed the newest figure to enter the room. As Mary glanced behind her, she witnessed Diane casually stride in, before stopping abruptly at the sight of Sebastian.

"Bash? Oh my dear son!" She wailed, throwing her arms around her son. She held him as only a mother would, and Henry moved to stand by his mistress. Diane's hands were all over her son's face, shoulders, and hands, assessing his physical state. Mary watched Bash gently grasp his mother's hands, stilling their motions as he spoke softly. She listened intently, before spinning to face Catherine.

"If you must know, Catherine, I found out about your little scheme. I warned Sebastian, allowing him to escape before the men you paid handsomely could take his life."

"Guards!" Henry exclaimed, waving an arm towards Catherine. "Lock her up in the dungeon for now. She is to have no privileges whatsoever. As soon as I find a suitable location for your imprisonment, you will be sent there without delay."

Catherine snarled menacingly at Henry, but he had already turned back to face his son. Noticeably absent from the joyous reunion was Francis, who stopped as he reached Mary.

"Did you know Bash was alive?" He asked softly, not catching Mary's gaze. There was sadness in his face, but Mary knew she was the only one who saw it.

"I did. I helped him escape." She hesitated, for everything she had done over the past several months she had done for Sebastian, not Francis. Guilt seeped back through Mary, even though she had just witnessed his adoration for his mistress a few minutes prior. Her guilt did not stem from her own actions, but for being in this crazy situation in the first place. But then Mary realized it was not guilt she felt pulsing through her, but regret.

"Where has he been all these months?" Again, Francis kept his voice low, allowing his father's strong voice to resound through the room.

"He sought safety and security in Scotland, under my mother's protection." She watched his eyes widen briefly, before he chuckled modestly. "Ah, well, I am glad he is alive." Mary nodded mutely, noticing the strange change in Francis' demeanor. His eyes held hers for a moment, before turning and approaching his brother.

He must have said something, for Mary saw Bash smile, brother's grasping each others shoulders. Francis strode to the entrance of the hall, pausing as Alice appeared by his side. With that, the moment broke for Mary, and her eyes traveled back towards Sebastian, who was watching her expectantly. Her smile was small, but meant only from him.

Mary and her mother joined the growing number of nobles who circled Sebastian, Henry and Diane. Happiness floated through the room again, and she had only enough energy left to say a quick prayer of thanks that their plan had worked. Catherine would be locked away, and Sebastian would be safe.

"Now my son, I think you need to explain to us who is buried in your tomb."

"Oh, more intrigue?" Marie piped up, her interest once again perked. "I am most interested to hear this story."

As if sharing an inside joke, both Mary and Sebastian laughed heartily. At a later date, Mary could not wait to grill Sebastian on the things her mother probably told him, or asked him. But before Mary got lost in the increasing crowd, her eyes found his again, and he winked.

All was right with her world.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your continued support and reviews! You all are amazing! Just a few chapters left.
> 
> Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More.
> 
> Chapter 20 Music: Invincible by Muse
> 
> Don't be afraid / What your mind conceives  
> You should make a stand / Stand up for what you believe  
> And tonight / We can truly say  
> Together we're invincible
> 
> During the struggle / They will pull us down  
> But please, please let's use this chance / To turn things around  
> And tonight / We can truly say  
> Together we're invincible

The congregation of nobles dispersed as Henry called Mary, her mother, Diane and Sebastian into his study. The ruckus of the throne room would provide fodder for many a conversation for years to come, but now Mary was more interested in the rest of the story. Who had been buried in Sebastian's tomb? He had mentioned a few words about 'forgiving his duplicitous behavior' to Mary in a letter, but now she wanted to hear the true account of what happened.

As they sat around the empty fireplace, Mary realized how difficult it was to be around Sebastian, and yet be the wife of Francis in Henry's eyes. Their time apart only heightened her affections, and now hiding them was the last thing she wanted to do. Unfortunately, it was necessary.

"So, Bash, I want to hear the whole story, minus that devil's involvement. I am sick of hearing about her." Henry spoke disgustedly.

Sebastian laughed, easily easing back in to their father-son relationship.

"Well, it is a bit unfortunate really." Sebastian began, his eyes occasionally catching Mary's, but never for too long. "I knew Catherine's mercenaries were following me, and if I had any intention of escaping France, I would have to divert them somehow."

He paused, his face betraying the emotions he was trying so desperately to hide. "I befriended a young man named Thomas, who was gravely ill. He was possibly a few years older than I, but not noticeably. Before hurriedly leaving the castle, my mother gifted me this." He held up a small box, and Mary glanced sideways at Diane. "It contained two small white pills, and would provide a swift, painless end if needed. When I realized Thomas was in great pain, I offered one to him, and he accepted willingly. It was fortunate that there was at least a small resemblance to me."

Mary tried to refrain from gasping. Bash had ended someone's life knowingly, out of mercy, and turned around and grasped at the opportunity to save his own.

"You showed great mercy." Mary whispered. He held her gaze for a moment longer than he should, and Mary was thankful Henry paid no attention. Diane gave Mary the briefest of smiles.

"Thank you for thinking so, Your Grace. I placed my traveling clothes on him, wearing the only other clothes I had brought with me. The next village was not far, and I casually let it drop that I had seen the King's bastard traveling just south of the city." He noticed Mary cringed when he referred to himself as the 'King's bastard'.

Thankfully, Diane asked the prevailing question Mary did not want to. "But the body was horribly beaten?" Her words hung stagnant in the room, hand in hand with the pregnant silence.

"I did the horrid deed." Sebastian replied, holding Mary's gaze the entire time. "Let it be known he was already dead, and I took no pleasure in it."

"You have the makings of a King." Henry stated, proudly slapping his son on his back. Sadness filled Mary's heart, for it mirrored the ache in Bash's eyes. Mary knew the man Bash was, and he would never relish in taking a man's life.

"Please do not be proud." Sebastian muttered, silence again filling the room.

"Well, it is no matter. Henry, I congratulate you on your intelligent son. I am glad I could provide some harbor for him in these times of trouble." Marie asserted, easing the tension that was beginning to grow.

"Yes, thank you. I also want to know why you chose Scotland as your refuge?" The turn in Henry's voice grated against Mary's ears, and she feared he might have started putting together the pieces of their complicated puzzle.

"It was my idea." Mary and Diane spoke in unison, and Marie laughed heartily.

"That is to say, Diane asked if my mother might provide asylum for Bash, and I wrote the necessary letters to my mother." Mary state simply.

"You know, my son, you could have just come to me with this information, and not have fled France." Henry's words were genuine, relaxing the unease building in Mary's shoulders when she thought he might have guessed their true connection.

"I wanted to beat Catherine at her own game, and I decided faking my death was the best option."

"I knew he planned to do it, but I never knew for certain he had succeeded." Diane announced surprisingly.

"And Mary? Surely you knew?" Henry was deviously prodding to see who was the weakest link. But Mary had no intention on divulging anything to her father-in-law.

"No, I knew nothing other than he was heading to Scotland." She lied. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Bash's eyes widen, but only briefly. "My grief the day his, well Thomas's body, was brought back to court was honest and true."

Sebastian winked, grinning slightly.

"This is a lot to absorb." Mary's mother replied to the group. "After all this intrigue, I think I need a rest." She made to stand, Henry and Sebastian rising in kind.

"I cannot ever repay your generosity, Regent." Sebastian spoke to Marie.

"I am only happy to help." She smiled, thinking ' _Just love my daughter and grandson and keep them safe.'_

"Let us throw a festival in your honor then, for I, too, am grateful for the help you gave my son." Marie and Sebastian both looked at Henry with interest. "I have been craving a jousting tournament. How about this weekend? And a feast to accompany it?"

"Splendid!" Marie de Guise clapped her hands. "Thank you. I always enjoy seeing men battle it out in front of me." Sebastian laughed and Mary rolled her eyes.

As they bid their good days, leaving Diane and Henry behind to _discuss_ the festival plans, Mary wanted to show Sebastian something very important.

* * *

They entered the castle nursery, currently only occupied by baby Grace, and a Duke's son. Sebastian was mesmerized by his baby sister, gingerly holding the baby girl close to his chest. He cradled her head, protectively supporting her tiny weight. She had seen similar love in Francis' eyes when he held Grace just minutes after her birth, but watching Sebastian evoked tremendous emotions within Mary.

"It is a joy to watch you with her." Mary spoke softly, her hand grazing his arm in a small display of affection.

"She is beautiful." He marveled, gently kissing his sister's brow before carefully placing the sleeping babe back into her bassinet.

"I cannot wait to see you hold your own son one day." Mary had left her statement vague enough in case the walls had ears.

"I look forward to that day as well." He smiled sweetly at Mary, trying to truly convey how excited he would be to hold his son, their son. The joy from his smile lit up his eyes.

With Grace still sleeping, Sebastian and Mary left the nursey, both in silent contemplation knowing soon, they would be visiting their own newborn son there. The thought saddened Mary from a moment.

"Sebastian, would I be crazy if I keep my child in my chambers instead of the nursery?" Being in the main hall, Mary had to watch her words more carefully. After visiting the nursery, Mary could not imagine having her son this far away from her.

"No, I would not think it is crazy. It is your own child after all. Honestly, I think it would be _my_ preferred choice of action."

The smile on Mary's face warmed Sebastian. It was not just the pregnancy that caused Mary to glow, but the love she felt for their son radiated from her like a sunbeam.

"Good. Now if you do not mind, I need to go rest my feet and back." Mary sighed, stretching her back as much as she could.

As quietly and discreetly as he could, Bash whispered in her ear. "Will you let my hands ease your discomfort?" Mary shivered, and a nod was all she could muster in response. Taking separate ways back to her chambers, Mary's feet carried her swollen body faster than she had traveled in months.

* * *

The following Saturday, the castle was abuzz with final preparations for the afternoon's jousting tournament. Though Bash and Diane had pleaded against the idea, Henry had obstinately made it known he would be riding in the tournament. Much to Mary's dismay, Francis and Sebastian both signed up as well.

The pennants flew lazily in the breeze on the raised tent platform for viewing the tournament. Since Catherine was locked inside the castle, Mary held the high spot of honor under the throne tent. Aylee, Greer and Lola sat around her, while Diane and Marie sat off to her side. They were all annoyingly aware of Mary's needs. The last few days Mary had felt strange. She had no labor pains yet, or even the false ones her midwife had mentioned, but her body was telling her the baby would be coming soon. To Mary's discomfort, Francis' mistress Alice had also been given a seat by Mary.

The trumpets blared, and the jousters all moved in front of the throne tent, bowing to Mary atop their horses. Mary glanced at Sebastian and Francis, both looking regal in their shining silver chain-mail. Even King Henry looked formidable in his royal armor. Mary and each of her ladies had brought a small scrap of fabric, a token for their champion. It was a time-honored tradition. Each lady took their turn to stand up, tying their token around the end of their jouster's lance. Mary would go last, and she watched as Diane started the affair, obviously presenting her token of scarlet fabric around Henry's lance. Each of Mary's ladies went, as well as a few of the other noblewomen. Alice and Mary were the only women left in the tent to go. Mary started to rise, accepting hers would have to go to Francis at this point. But then Alice rose, looking pointedly at Mary before she turned to acknowledge Francis, wrapping her yellow lace around his lance. Inwardly, Mary fumed, not because of Francis, but because she had the audacity to stare Mary down while doing it. Mary wondered if this is how Katherine of Aragon felt when Henry VIII was so openly courting Anne Boleyn. She realized her pregnancy-induced emotional roller coaster was taking hold of her again, and with a deep breath, Mary slowly stood. It was now her chance to offer her token to her champion, the one man she wished the best in the tournament, granting him her favor. As she took the few steps to the dais, she remembered the Michaelmas festival not so many months ago when she had the opportunity to chose. She remembered the whispers and a few shocked gasps when she picked Sebastian for the first dance. And she prepared herself for those same whispers.

She looked up at her knight, holding her light blue fabric that she knew he loved aloft. He lowered his lance, and Mary swiftly tied the blue fabric securely around the end. As she turned and took her seat, there were no whispers or gasps this time. Glancing around, she noticed no one even paid too much attention. They expected her to give her favor to Sebastian, she realized. Whether that idea thrilled her, or frightened her, she did not know, but she did know she had plenty of time to worry about it later.

Mary grabbed the other piece of fabric she brought with here, the white linen she would drop to start the games. She had not moved from granting Sebastian her favor, and with all eyes turned on her, she raised her hand, letting the white fabric float away on the breeze. Sebastian and Francis were the first pair to line up for the joust. Mary cringed as they lowered their face plates, horses rearing and charging at each other. She caught a glimpse of her blue fabric flapping in the rush of wind as Sebastian barreled past. The crashing of metal rang out through the castle grounds, but both men remained on their horses. They turned, spending only enough time to align their horses before clamoring towards each other again. This time, both men went flying off their horses. Sebastian landed on his back, laying spread eagle in the dirt. Francis fell on his shoulder, his lower body rolling around as he tried to right himself. Eventually, they both picked themselves up again, hurriedly mounting their horses for another pass.

"Why do men feel the need to charge at each other with pointed objects?" Mary asked her mother, preparing herself for this next pass.

"Because they are men, Mary, they do not always think with their heads." They laughed heartily together, before turning their attention back to the field of play.

Francis charged early this time, Sebastian having to spur his horse forward before he was ready. The clang of metal and wood was horrifically loud this time, and Mary watched in horror as Sebastian flew backward off his horse, landing squarely on his head. A gasp ran through the crowd as several ran forward to check on him. Francis jumped off his horse too, himself staggering over to his brother. Mary gripped the edges of her chair so tightly she lost feeling in her fingers. _This cannot be happening,_ she thought. And just as her mind began shutting down, her subconscious accepting the worst possibility, Sebastian sat up, waving a hand to notify the crowd he was alright.

The breath Mary had been holding released with a whoosh. She could not imagine having just got Sebastian back to lose him again in such a manner. He limped awkwardly off the field, sitting himself heavily down on a bench and resting his head on the stand behind him. Mary felt Lola grab her hand in comfort, squeezing gently. She smiled at her lady, thankful for her calming presence.

Since Francis technically won the round against his brother, he would be up again, this time facing his father. Mary had previously agreed with Bash that King Henry should not be jousting, but his stubborn streak won out. The two men charged at each other, both lances missing their targets the first time. They turned, steadying their horses before initiating the next pass. With another horrendous clash of metal and wood, Henry fell off his horse. Though the crowd had gasped with Sebastian's fall, this time there were screams. Focusing her eyes toward the playing field, Mary saw the broken lance jutting out precariously from the top of the King's helmet.

Francis look bewildered, still holding the other end of the broken lance in his hand. Diane moved like the wind, hurrying down to the field as they carefully placed Henry on a cot, hurriedly moving toward the castle. Lola was already in action, begging Mary to let her go help Nostradamus, which Mary eagerly agreed to. Her mother pulled on her arm, indicating she should follow the crowd following the King's body.

"We are watching history, Mary." Marie whispered, urging her daughter forward slowly. In the midst of the crowd, Mary's eyes found Sebastian's, and without any words between them, they knew what the other was thinking.

_Things are about to change._

* * *

After spending the rest of the afternoon by Henry's bed, watching Nostradamus and Lola work as a well-oiled team, Sebastian followed Mary back to her chambers. Once the door was closed, Mary grasped at him, fingers pushing and pulling at fabric, wanting to touch every ounce of him.

"Mary, we do not have to tonight. You are exhausted after what happened today." Sebastian halted her hands, looking deeply into her eyes.

"No, we do. If your father dies, I become Queen of France. Your brother will be King, and we - well - we will have to be much more careful, if we can be together at all."

"Of course we can, Mary. We will be more careful, as you said." His hands cupped her face, watching the struggle play out on her features.

"I know you are right, but I do not care. Please do not argue with a pregnant woman." Mary pouted, hands placed firmly on her hips. Sebastian chuckled, tugging his shirt over his head before wrapping his arms around her frame.

"Oh Mary, you know I would never deny you."

"I love you." She whispered, her lips eagerly finding his through the darkness.

They tumbled helplessly to bed, carefully maneuvering around Mary's belly. Sebastian reverently kissed her stomach, murmuring _'I love you'_ to the sleeping baby within. Moving up to face Mary, he kissed her slowly and gently, before resting his forehead against hers. "I love you, Mary, so very much." For the rest of the evening, they took their time, Mary still enjoying the added sensations thanks to the child growing within.

Coming down from their blissful encounter, they moved to face each other. Mary raised a hand to brush lightly against his cheek, her soft fingers whispering over his skin. "Oh Bash, the things you do." Mary sighed contentedly.

A sudden rapping on the door made Mary tense, and she motioned for Sebastian to hide under the covers near the foot of the bed. Hastily throwing a robe around her shoulders, Mary acknowledged the knock.

Bash lifted the covers, eying the guard that entered covertly.

"Your Majesty, I am sorry to awaken you, but I come with news. The King is dead."


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 500 followers? Oh my! Thank you!
> 
> Thank you so much for your continued support and reviews! You all are amazing! Just a few chapters left.
> 
> Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More.
> 
> Chapter 21 Music: Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper
> 
> Sometimes you picture me - I'm walking too far ahead  
> You're calling to me, I can't hear  
> What you've said -  
> Then you say - go slow - I fall behind -  
> The second hand unwinds
> 
> If you're lost you can look - and you will find me  
> Time after time  
> If you fall I will catch you - I'll be waiting  
> Time after time

The guard's words echoed around Mary's ears. _The King is dead._ Sebastian remained still, and hidden, under the covers at the foot of her bed. The guard stood there, awaiting a response from Mary, who was speechless. She shook her head lightly.

"Oh my." She whispered, coming to her senses. "Yes, thank you for this unfortunate news. Is Francis with him?"

"Yes, Your Grace." Mary nodded, moving towards the edge of the bed.

"Please tell him I will be there as soon as I am dressed."

"Yes, Your Grace." The guard bowed his head, clicking his heels before turning to leave. Mary saw him hesitate, before glancing back towards her. "Long live King Francis and Queen Mary."

And with those words, he was gone, closing Mary's chamber door behind him. Mary let out a staggered breath, rustling the covers to find Sebastian. Through blurry tears, she waited for Sebastian's reaction. Henry's death was not as hard on her as it would be on Sebastian, as Henry was his father. While Mary looked for sadness, or grief in his eyes, all she saw was love. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she knew he would grieve in his own time, in his own way. He held her body gently as together they faced the gravity of the situation. Mary was now Queen of France, and Francis was King.

_King._

France laid in the hand's of his brother, and Sebastian was not sure if the idea thrilled him, or frightened him. One item that did frighten him was the outcome of his relationship with Mary. He promised her they could still be together, though discretion would be the better part of valor in this case. He took care to rub calming circles on Mary's back, delaying her dressing on propose. In the moment, he tried to exude strength for her, knowing she would need every ounce of it, especially now. Mary relaxed against him, momentarily forgetting there was somewhere she needed to be. Sebastian felt her muscles tense beneath his fingers, and she gasped softly. Angling his head, he saw her brows furrowed together.

"Mary, is something wrong?" He became worried when Mary did not immediately respond, but then she turned her head, smiling sweetly.

"No, I am fine. I need to get dressed and see Francis, for it is my duty."

Grabbing his trousers from beneath the bed, Sebastian followed Mary, doing the best he could to help her into her dress and lace the backing loosely. Placing her hand gently on her belly, she felt her muscles tighten beneath her fingers, her heart racing slightly. She knew all the stress could not be good for her and her son. With concern written all over his face, Sebastian grasped Mary's arms gently.

"Are you sure you do not want to lie back down? You can see Francis in the morning." He whispered.

"No, I promise I am fine, Bash. I will rest after I visit with Francis." She paused, eying her lover tiredly. "Are you not saddened by your father's death?" His head drooped ashamedly, but he chanced to meet her gaze again.

"Of course I am, Mary. He may not have been the best father, but he was the only father I will ever have." He stopped, covering his eyes briefly with his hand. When he eventually dropped his fingers, Mary saw the moisture that threatened to spill forth. "I have not lost anyone close to me before, so I really do not know how to properly grieve. Besides, my true family is standing in front of me right now." His fingers brushed gently over Mary's cheek, and she sighed contentedly.

"I guess I shall go then? You probably need to head back to your chambers, in case Francis sends another guard to tell you the news."

He bent gently to kiss her, her lips having mastered moving precisely with his. She watched as Sebastian moved to the secret doorway, disappearing within the darkness. Mary pulled her chamber door open, stopping to grasp the handle as she felt the tightness around her belly once more. _I promise to rest shortly, my son,_ she thought. As the sensation faded, Mary carefully waddled toward Nostradamus' workroom, anxious to offer her condolences to her husband.

* * *

Upon arriving at Nostradamus' workroom, Mary noted the somber atmosphere surrounding her. Henry laid atop a table, pale and stiff. Nostradamus and Lola had done a tremendous job of cleaning the King's wound, so he would be presentable for family viewing. Diane sat in a corner, distraught but not uncivilized. What Mary did think was strange was the lack of presence of Queen Catherine. Though locked away for her treasonous plots, Mary still assumed Francis would let her pay her final respects to her dead husband.

"Mary, thank you for coming, sweetheart." The term of endearment struck Mary as odd, but she quickly forgot it as she noted Francis' appearance. His face was haggard, purple bruises highlighting his eyes. The weight of France now weighed heavily on his shoulders, and he looked as though he had been carrying the weight for years, instead of minutes.

"I am sorry it took me so long." Mary replied, reaching for his hand. He kissed her quickly, but Mary could still taste the lingering salt from his earlier tears.

"You came as soon as you could, and I am grateful." Sorrow was etched across his young features, and part of Mary yearned for easier days that were now long since past.

"I am so sorry, Francis." Mary gently cupped his cheek with one hand, such affection they had not shared in a long time. He covered her hand with his own, a sad sort of smile covering his face.

"Thank you." Pausing, his eyes searched the faces gathered around them. "Did you happen to see Bash on your way here?"

"No, I did not see him. Has be not been by yet?" Mary feigned curiosity, knowing full well Sebastian had not been by yet, for he had spent the evening hours with her. "Well, I am sure he is on his way." Mary replied quietly. Grasping his hand, Mary stood with Francis in silence. She had gotten used to the tightening feeling across her belly, so when it happened again, amidst the silence, she squeezed Francis' hand in surprised response.

"Are you alright, Mary?"

"Yes, I just need to sit down."

"Here is a chair, Mary." Sebastian appeared in the doorway, just in time to retrieve a chair, carrying it over behind Mary. She sat quickly, gripping the arm handles. The brother's embraced briefly, before Sebastian moved to comfort his mother, who eagerly accepted his open arms, clinging helplessly to him.

"Have you let your mother come visit?" Mary asked of Francis, who stood anxiously by her chair. "Supervised, of course?"

"I thought about it, especially for young Charles and Henry's sake." He replied sadly, reaching a steadying hand for Mary's shoulder.

They continued in silence for a few moments, Diane's quiet sobs the only sound within the room. Francis finally acknowledged to Mary he would allow Catherine a supervised visit before the grand state funeral already being planned for the following week. Though Mary vehemently disliked Catherine for the many things she had done, especially her attempt on Sebastian's life, part of her also realized the civility in allowing Catherine to pay her respects to her late husband, for in knowing that though Catherine might never fully face her wrath, she would eventually face God's, and his wrath was great.

"Mary, darling, I think you should go rest." Francis spoke quietly, bringing Mary slowly away from her thoughts. She faced her tired husband, noting, still, the exhaustion evident there.

"I will, Francis, and you should do the same." Mary bid goodnight to Diane, Nostradamus, and Lola. Her eyes held Sebastian's for a moment, and he nodded in understanding and thanks. Francis followed her out of the room, but as Mary turned to head towards her chambers, Francis kept walking.

"Are you not going to bed, Francis?" Mary asked curiously as he made his way toward the castle entrance. He slowed, and turned towards her. He looked as though he had suffered a great defeat.

"I think I shall take a brief walk."

"At this hour, Francis? Really, it looks like it might rain." Mary complained, feeling uneasy with Francis' worn appearance. He needed rest, and as the France's new King, he had to be in his best shape.

"Just a short walk, I promise." Mary nodded okay, and watched as his figure disappeared through the oaken castle doors. She felt the uneasiness return, not understanding why. As she continued toward her chambers, she remembered his sudden use of endearments towards her. He had said 'sweetheart' and 'darling', words reminiscent of their honeymoon days, and not now. She recalled the hint of sadness in his eyes when he asked her if she knew Sebastian had been in Scotland the whole time. Though Mary had accepted his indifference many months ago, she wondered if Francis was now missing what they used to have. _No matter_ , Mary thought, _what is done is done._

"Mary?" Sebastian called lightly down the hall behind her, infinitely lifting her spirits from her dampened mood. "Do you need any assistance back to your chambers?"

"Thank you, Bash, but I am quite alright. Please be with your mother. She needs her son right now." Smiling sweetly at Sebastian, Mary took his hand lightly, holding it firmly in her own. He inched closer, his words whispered in the semi-darkened hallway.

"Shall I come by later?" He inquired, watching Mary's face for her response. She nodded, winking quickly to lighten the mood. He did not laugh outwardly, but his smile and his eyes carried the emotion. Mary was almost to her chamber doorway as she watched Bash disappear in the other direction. Pulling on her heavy wooden door, Mary stopped as the tightening sensation gripped her belly again, more strongly and painfully than before. Mary gasped, holding her belly as if she could still the feeling.

As the feeling subsided, Mary eased her tired body over to her bed, not bothering to change out of her dress as she laid upon the covers. So much had changed for her within such a few hours. King Henry was dead. Francis was now King in name, just as Mary was Queen. Their coronation would need to be scheduled soon, and Mary hoped it could wait until after her son was born.

Exhaustion was talking over her body, and Mary succumbed easily to a dreamless sleep, listening briefly to the summer rain outside.

* * *

Gasping, Mary jolted awake, shocked by the pain across her belly.

"Mary?" Lola asked, sitting up from her position on the chaise lounge. She noted the way Mary held her belly, and moved quickly across the room to her friend. "What are you feeling?"

"It feels like everything tightens at once." Mary paused, her hand calming rubbing a circle across her stomach. "But there has been increasing amounts of pain with each one."

"Each one? Mary, how long has this been going on?" Concern etched across Lola's features.

"Since last night, not long after we received word that the King had passed." Lola helped Mary to lay back down, politely assessing Mary's condition. "Lola, why were you sleeping on the lounge?"

"Bash asked me to check on you. He needed to stay with his mother tonight." Mary nodded, loving Sebastian even more for his thoughtfulness.

Cringing, Mary closed her eyes as the pain crept along her belly once more. Lola watched Mary's face, before she rushed from the bed, searching for her gown.

"Where are you going?" Mary asked, panic rising in her voice, as it did throughout her whole body. Worry tickled on her brain, for she noted Lola was moving as if her life depended on it.

"I am going to fetch Agnes, the midwife. I think you are in labor." Mary's eyes widened, confused. _Would not I be able to tell if I was in labor?_ She thought. As if reading her friend's mind, Lola continued. "Do not worry, Mary. It is difficult to understand what is going on when it is your first child."

"Someone needs to tell Francis and Sebastian." Mary pleaded, her words rushed as tried to calm her racing heart.

"I will see to it, now relax. I have heard it helps babies come faster if you are more relaxed."

Mary watched as Lola left the room in a flurry. Sinking back on the bed, Mary closed her eyes, and tried taking deep breaths.

* * *

Just a short time later, Lola returned with Agnes. She helped Mary up, changing her into a much more lightweight and comfortable gown. A gown that was suitable for birthing.

"Greer has been looking for Francis, and Aylee found Bash. He is helping look for Francis." Barely hearing her words, Mary held on to Lola as the pain mounted again.

"My dear, let us lie you down and see how soon this child will greet us." Agnes' hands were cold as she moved gently between Mary's legs, pushing and prodding with hands that had done this many times before.

"It should not be long now, Your Grace. Maybe a few more hours." Agnes smoothed Mary's dress back over her legs, moving to wash her hand in a basin on Mary's nightstand. "The pain will become worse as we progress, but it is all part of the process."

Mary sighed dramatically. _A few more hours?_ She thought. _I need Bash here with me._

"Lola?" Greer appeared in the doorway, beckoning her over to the hall. Lola noted Mary had closed her eyes, and she hoped her Queen would be able to rest before the hardest part of labor began.

"Did you find Francis?" Lola asked.

"Yes." Greer whispered. "Apparently he stayed out in the rain. Bash found him unconscious. He took him to Nostradamus." Lola knew they could not tell this news to Mary, for she would worry terribly. "Okay, I will tell Mary that Bash and Aylee found Francis drunk, and he is sleeping it off. She does not need to be concerned with this news yet."

"Alright." Greer agreed. "What else do I need to do?"

"Fetch Bash, and quickly."

It was not five minutes when Bash appeared through the secret passageway. Agnes started to protest a man's presence during birth, but Mary quickly let her know she wanted him there.

"I am your Queen, and he will stay." Even through the pain Mary looked regal. "You will not mention he was here, and no questions."

"Yes, Your Grace." Agnes bowed slightly, before continuing her work on checking Mary. "If you plan on staying, please make yourself useful." Agnes pointed at Bash directly. "Take those wretched boots off, and sit behind our Queen. Let her rest against you, for she will need all the physical support she can get shortly."

Bash nodded, discarding his boots, and sliding in behind Mary. Mary eagerly grabbed his hands as they wrapped around her sides, and groaned and she rested her back against his chest.

"Are you alright, Mary?" He asked gently, noting the sweat on her brow.

"I am terribly uncomfortable, and more than ready to be done with this." She said through gritted teeth, squeezing his hands for comfort through the increasing pain. Sebastian chuckled, kissing her temple.

The labor pains were coming faster and more painfully now for Mary. With each pain, she arched against Sebastian, pulling at his hands and groaning. He never felt more helpless, realizing he was the reason she was experiencing this pain.

Things remained status quo for the next hour. Mary rolled her eyes at Lola when she said Francis was passed out drunk. But it did not matter to Mary, for Bash was there, being the most supportive person in the room.

With the next pain, Mary let out a whimpered scream, and Bash held her as best he could.

"You are such a strong woman, Mary. I am so proud of you."

Mary mumbled incoherently while Agnes checked on her progress.

"My Queen, it is time to push."

"Push what?" Mary exclaimed, exasperated.

"Well, push like you are using the privy." Agnes said simply. Mary groaned in frustration. Sebastian blushed a little, and Agnes laughed at the pair. "It is truly the best way to explain it, and trust me, it works. When I tell you to push, you push. Bear down as best you can."

Sebastian kissed her temple again, whispering sweetly to Mary, and she laughed in response. The humor quickly turned sour as the worst pain yet gripped Mary.

"Push, Your Grace, push!" Mary pushed as Agnes told her, finally understanding what other women have told her: this is the hardest thing you will ever do.

"Again, my Queen."

Mary whimpered. "Can she not rest?" Sebastian asked, irritated.

"Once the babe is born. Now push, Your Grace."

It felt like an eternity to Mary, between Agnes constantly telling her to push, and her own pushing. The pain was excruciating. Knowing her bible stories as well as she did, Mary knew the pain of childbirth was a consequence from the Garden of Eden, but as she continued to push, she wondered why did it have to be _so painful._

"I see a head! You are almost done, Your Grace. One or two more good pushes." Mary complied, pushing with all her might and pushing the limits on the strength of Sebastian's hands. "That is it, my Queen. One more."

Mary pushed again, feeling the sudden emptiness as the child was born. A newborn's cry filled the air, and Mary could not keep the tears from falling freely.

"You have a healthy son, my Queen." Agnes exclaimed proudly, holding the squirming babe up for Mary to see. Mary laughed, for it was amazing that she and Sebastian created such a beautiful, tiny being. "I will clean him up right quick, and then let you hold him."

Sebastian reached his arms securely around Mary, holding her close. "You are amazing, Mary. I love you so much."

Agnes turned back around, having wiped the baby clean, and swaddled him in clean linen. Mary gasped, immediately reaching for him. "Oh Bash, he is beautiful."

Mary saw Lola from the corner of her eye. She smiled at her friend, and she saw Lola had tears on her face as well. Lola left the room briefly, and as the door opened, Mary could see numerous people in the corridor. The door remained slightly cracked to Mary's chambers, and though exhausted from the delivery, she was awake enough to hear the shouts of joy from those gathered in the halls. She squeezed Sebastian's hand firmly, and together they turned their gaze back to their newborn son.

"Long live the Dauphin!"


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay in updating! It's been a crazy few months. BUT we only have a couple chapters left, and I won't leave you all hanging, I promise! Thank you so much for your continued support and reviews! You all are amazing!
> 
> Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More. And I promised I wouldn't start my new multi-chapter fic until I finished this one, but alas, I did. Check out 'A Lady in His Shield' when you get a chance!
> 
> Chapter 22 Music: Turn, Turn, Turn by the Byrds
> 
> To everything - turn, turn, turn / There is a season - turn, turn, turn  
> And a time to every purpose under heaven
> 
> A time to be born, a time to die / A time to plant, a time to reap  
> A time to kill, a time to heal / A time to laugh, a time to weep

They named him James, after Mary's late father. He had very little hair on his head, but his eyes were stunningly blue. Sebastian could not have been more proud of his little family. While in Scotland, he had promised himself and God that if he saw his family again, he would not only love them unconditionally, but protect them with all he had. Now, as he watched Mary with his son, he realized he never needed to make the promise, for the love of a parent for a child was insurmountable and unbreakable.

He say by Mary's bedside all night as she rested. She woke only to nurse baby James, as he laid curled up at her side. Sebastian knew the truth of Francis' situation, that he had been found out in the rain, soaked to the bone. He had been the fortunate, or unfortunate, one to find him. Lola had brought him updates over the following few hours as needed, though last Sebastian knew he was still unconscious in Nostradamus' workroom. Bash decided, after the tiring evening for him, even more so for Mary, to wait until morning to tell her, for she needed every bit of rest she could get at the moment. A part of her still loved Francis, loved the man he used to be, and would feel the inherent need to care for him in his time of need. But even Sebastian knew that the man she once knew was long since gone, and Mary had to focus her undivided attention on their tiny bundle of joy. Sebastian could never understand when his mother, Diane, told him he would never know true love until he had a child of his own. To him, nothing would exceed his love for Mary.

Now he completely understood. It was not that he loved James more than Mary, indeed not. Instead, it was an all encompassing, heart-warming, protective love that Sebastian knew not how to explain. It was equal to his love for Mary, and yet so very different.

"It is fitting, is it not?" She whispered, eyes barely open as she admired their son. Sebastian wished he could capture this moment forever, Mary and James bathed in the dimly lit candlelight.

"What is, my love?" Sebastian replied sleepily, amazed that Mary had awoken when James was still sleeping.

"As one life left this world, another one entered it." Her words were soft as she lightly stroked James' tiny head.

"A King of France passed, and a future King of France was born. Yes, very fitting indeed." Bash nodded. "Now please rest, Mary. I imagine you will have plenty of anxious visitors ready to see their Queen and the Dauphin in the morning."

Bash rose from his chair to place a tender kiss on her brow, but Mary's eyes were already closed and her breathing light. Admiring his family once more, Sebastian adjusted himself back into the chair, hoping himself for a few hours rest. His heart had never felt so full of love and pride as it did in that moment, his eyes lingering on Mary and James while they slept. Silently, he thanked God for allowing him to be a part of this moment, that he had survived the scheming of Catherine, and been able to be a part of his child's birth. With a contented sigh, Bash slipped into a very light, but restful sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Mary awoke as James started to arouse, his little mouth rooting for his mother's chest. Her fingers fumbled with the laces of her nightgown, loosening them enough to move the fabric away and reveal her breast. She reached a hand over to James, gently scooting him closer. The little sounds he made as he nursed brought tears to her eyes. It was hard for her to imagine this little person was utterly dependent on her. It was hard for her to control her emotions, looking upon the tiny face of her son. Her own father never got the privilege with Mary, having died when she was only six days old. Or Kenna, who was barely able to hold her daughter before she, too, passed. Mary thanked all that she knew for guiding her through unscathed. Childbirth was a dangerous and beautiful thing.

"Mary?" Lola asked gently, having slipped quietly into Mary's chambers, not wanting to interrupt the mother and son bonding time. "How are you feeling? After what happened with Kenna, I was so afraid."

"I am tired, physically and emotionally, but I am fine. Thank you, my friend." Mary paused, her mind drifting back to her lost friend, Kenna.

Even with their talking, Sebastian appeared to be sleeping soundly in his chair by her bedside. Mary knew he was just as exhausted as she was.

"I am thankful, Mary. It has been a difficult day, well, days, and this baby has brought light to a darkened castle." Lola wandered over to the drawn curtains, pulling them aside to let some morning sunlight into Mary's dark chamber.

Mary thought Bash was sleeping soundly, but he began to stir, eyes slowly opening to focus on the voices floating around him.

"Everything alright?" He asked softly, voice still thick and husky with sleep. His eyes blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision of sleep through the invading sunlight.

"Yes, Bash, Lola was kindly checking in on us." Mary responded sweetly, her arm protectively cocooned around baby James.

"Actually, Mary, I need to tell you something." Lola started, her voice betraying her inner turmoil on telling Mary about Francis' condition.

"What is it?" Mary felt the unease seeping out of Lola and into herself. She had no idea what might be troubling her friend.

"Mary, it is Francis. After his father's death, before you went into labor, he disappeared. We found him outside, in the rain." Lola purposefully did not tell Mary it was actually Sebastian who found Francis. Glancing at him in the chair, he shook his head minutely.

Mary remembered the flashes of lightning and claps of thunder as her labor pains were coming fast and hard. With all the pain she was enduring to bring James into the world, she was entirely focused on the task at hand. And now to think Francis was out in the storm. _Oh no,_ she thought.

"And how is he?" Mary's voice shook as she asked the question which floated around her brain, afraid of the ramifications of what might have happened to Francis. She glanced down at James, his blue eyes innocently staring up at her darker ones. _Was she holding the King of France? Is that what Lola was coming to tell her?_ She thought.

"He is still unconscious, but now he is running a fever. Nostradamus is worried he might ..." Lola did not finish her sentences, since the faces of both Mary and Sebastian displayed an implicit understanding of her words. _He might die._

"Why did you not tell me sooner?" Mary questioned.

"You needed a good nights rest, Mary, after your hard labor. I did not think a few hours would make much of a difference." Sebastian's voice joined the conversation, turning his body to face Mary directly. "He was burdened with the sudden weight of the crown. I thought all he needed was a good nights rest as well. I am sorry if I should have done otherwise."

Begrudgingly, Mary nodded. What could she have done in the minutes after James' birth? Nothing. She was barely able to get up to use the privy, let alone tend to Francis.

"Thank you for the concern. I am sure you are quite right." Sebastian knew that tone of Mary's voice meant 'I understand but I am not happy about it.' But it also meant she forgave him.

"Mary, I am sure Francis will be fine in a day or two, and you can see him then. Anyways, he would want James to be your top priority, believe me."

Mary nodded, amazed by Sebastian's ability to remain calm and in control in this situation, especially since he would not be able to acknowledge James as his son in public. This pained Mary deeply.

"Can I take James to see him?" Mary asked, suspicious the answer would automatically be 'no'.

"Nostradamus thinks it is unwise, at least while he has a fever. Even I have not been allowed too close to Francis, for fear I could carry whatever it is back to you and James. Maybe in another week or two."

"Thank you, Lola. Please keep me updated if anything changes."

"You know I will. Now, let me go get you some breakfast. Feeding you will help you feed James." Lola genuinely smiled, and Mary chuckled, thanking Lola again.

As the door closed behind Lola, she turned her stare to Sebastian. He ducked his head in embarrassment, unable to meet her blaming stare.

"Are you upset with me?" Bash questioned, still not willing to meet her eyes.

"You should know I could never be upset with you. I am upset with the situation. What if Francis dies? What if James is to be King at not even a month old? We have not even begun to plan his Christening!"

"What if, Mary? Francis will not die. James will be King, yes, eventually. But let us cross those bridges when they get here, okay?" Sebastian reached across the bed for Mary's hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

"Why can I not be calm like you are?" Mary laughed, wishing she could be more optimistic.

"Because I am not calm. I just appear that way. I am churned up inside right now, but I just do not like to show it." Sebastian replied, honestly. Mary was relieved he was willing to tell her so. "Well, I am going to go freshen up. I am sure it would be inappropriate for me to be here when visitors arrive."

"Thank you, Bash, for everything. I could not have done any of this without you."

"No, you could not, because last I remember, it takes two to, well, you know." He winked, and Mary let out a hoarse laugh. She gasped, turning back to James, hoping she had not awaken him as he had quickly fallen back asleep when Lola left. "I will be back by later, my love." Sebastian walked around Mary's bed, stooping to kiss her sweetly on the lips. A kiss that, for both parties, held so much promise of a future for their family. He blew a kiss to his son.

"I love you, Sebastian de Poitiers."

"And I love you, Mary, Queen of Scotland and France." He paused as he turned towards the door. "No, let me rephrase that. I love you, Mary, Queen of Scotland, France, and my heart."

Mary smiled, shooing Bash out the door with a laugh. As she looked back to her son, she smiled lovingly at his sleeping form. "Your father and mother love you so much." She whispered, closing her eyes and listening contentedly to his soft breathing.

* * *

It was two weeks later when Mary was finally able to introduce James to Francis. Francis had recovered enough to be moved to his own room, instead of being under the constant watchful eye of Nostradamus. His recovery was slower than Mary expected, and she was unsure why Nostradamus hesitated every time she asked about a full recovery.

He sat upon a lounge chair, set in front of one large window. The sunlight was casting a sickly yellow tinge on his already paled complexion. He smiled weakly when she entered carrying James, just awakened from his morning nap.

"Good Morning, Francis. You are looking better today." Mary replied, the lie forced between her lips as she kissed him lightly on the forehead.

"Thank you, dear, I am feeling a bit better. I think I will feel much better after seeing my son."

Mary gently placed James in his outstretched arms, thankful Francis was sitting, as his weakened state frightened her as he held James. The pair gazed at each other a minute, Francis' face beaming at the child.

"He looks so much like you, Mary. I am a bit jealous." He said jokingly, bending his head to kiss James on the cheek.

Mary laughed lightly, hiding her worry and insecurity over his words.

"I bet he will grow up to be the spitting image of his father, I am sure. Babies change so much, you know." She meant the words to be comforting to Francis, but instead it was as if they were a thousand knives burying deeply in her heart. _If he look like his father then we are all doomed,_ she thought.

"I guess we should begin to plan his Christening?" Francis asked, adjusting James so he could rock him gently in his arms. His little eyes blinked slowly, closing with the soothing rocking motion.

"Yes, I have already started planning a bit. I was thinking about waiting another month, maybe until the beginning of September? I was hoping you would feel substantially better by then."

"And I am sure I will. September is a beautiful month, and will be very fitting for the Christening of the future King of France." Mary watched Francis' arm shake as he held James, and prayed he would make it until September. His fever took an unaccustomed toll on his physical body.

"Wonderful, Francis. I will make all the preparations."

Mary sat across from Francis in silence, gazing out the window as the hot July sun kept everyone indoors in the afternoon.

"I am sorry I have not been of more use, Mary."

"Please do not worry, Francis. You have been there is spirit, and that is all that matters right now." She whispered. The door to Francis' room opened, Aylee appearing in the doorway.

"I am sorry to interrupt, Your Graces." She curtseyed, holding an invitation in her hand. "We have been scripting the invitations for James' Christening, and I need to know his full Christian name."

"What was your final decision, Mary?" Francis asked, momentarily halting his rocking motion and watching her expectantly. Mary hesitated, for she had not shared his full name with anyone except Bash. With a smile, she swiveled to face Aylee.

"Yes, Aylee, I am sorry I forgot to tell you sooner. It is James Bastian Francis de Valois."


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters (including this one) left to go my friends! It's been an exciting ride! Thanks for all your continued support!
> 
> Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More. And I promised I wouldn't start my new multi-chapter fic until I finished this one, but alas, I did. Check out 'A Lady in His Shield' when you get a chance!
> 
> Chapter 23 Music: Skye Boat Song (Theme from Outlander)
> 
> Sing me a song of a lass that is gone, Say, could that lass be I?  
> Merry of soul she sailed on a day; Over the sea to Skye.
> 
> Billow and breeze, islands and seas, mountains of rain and sun,  
> All that was good, all that was fair, All that was me is gone.

Francis never really questioned Mary's choice of names for baby James. In fact, he jokingly commented that Sebastian would probably love it, seeing how it resembled his own. At this, Mary was surprised. Bastian served as a good French name by itself, but it also paid homage to his true namesake, Sebastian. But being her good luck, nobody seemed to make the connection. So used to calling him Bash, they were, that Bastian appeared a wholly different name to them. For Mary, it was not only to honor Sebastian. Bastian meant 'fortress'. She wanted him to be a fortress for Scotland, and France.

Marie planned on staying through her grandson's christening, but there was still one grandmother James had yet to meet. Mary tiptoed around the idea of introducing her son to Catherine, vicious as she had been to Sebastian. Though Mary's love for Sebastian stemmed from her true feelings, knowing Catherine's scheming had a hand in James' beginning, with all those potions and trickery, had hardened Mary's heart completely towards her mother-in-law. However, Francis urged Mary to take James to see Catherine in the tower. He was her first grandchild, and would be the future King of France.

Mary had drawn the line at allowing Catherine to be present at the Christening, so the week before, she carefully carried James down to the tower dungeon, following Lola's footsteps gingerly. Though a prisoner, Catherine had been afforded a few luxuries her position entailed. Hence, her remote area of the dungeon smelled less of urine and sweat than others. Flanked by guards, Lola announced Mary's arrival, and she swept cautiously through the doorway.

"Ah, Mary, finally deciding the grace me with your presence?" Catherine smiled wickedly, and Mary cringed. She had encouraged Sebastian to not join her, afraid of how perceptive Catherine could be at times, but as the older woman stared her down, she wished more than ever that he was by her side.

"I would like to introduce you to your grandson." Mary spoke matter-of-factly, peering not at Catherine, but over her shoulder. Catherine's features softened considerably as her gaze shifted to the bundle in Mary's arms. She smiled, taking a few steps toward Mary. Out of habit, Mary backed away from Catherine.

"May I hold my grandson, or will you simply dangle him in front of me?" Catherine asked sarcastically. Mary recoiled. She did not want Catherine touching her son at all, but she was here at Francis' request, not of her own free will. She eyed Catherine suspiciously, approaching her as if she was a poisonous snake. Gently, she extended her arms, carefully exchanging James.

He squealed, waving a tiny fist around and Catherine chuckled, cooing softly to him. Mary watched amazed as Catherine's entire demeanor softened as she was talking to her grandchild. Her features, however, quickly hardened.

"This is not my grandson." She stated firmly, handing James back to Mary. "You have managed to fool everyone, have you not?"

"You are out of line." Mary's voice rose, attempting to hide the nervous tremor that threatened to break forth.

"Am I? I have a feeling it is you who are out of line." Catherine paused, eying her with such a look Mary's heart skipped a beat. "I have seen a similar child's face in my day. Did you not think I would recognize a bastard?"

Mary refrained from gasping. _You must play the Queen,_ she whispered to herself.

"The only true bastard I recognize is you. How dare you question my son's legitimacy? You have no place."

"I have no place? We are talking about the future King of France. Of course it is my place!" Catherine's voice rose as did the color in her face. Mary kept telling herself to remain calm. She could not show to slightest hint that what Catherine said was right.

"Listen, Catherine. I am the Queen of France. To question me is to question your son, the King. Such an accusation could be considered treasonous." Mary watched Catherine's face blanch at her words. Mary held the power to deem her a traitor, and Catherine knew it. "James is your grandson, and Francis is his father, no matter what you think."

"You are such a good liar, Mary." Catherine wheezed, undeterred by Mary's threat.

"Guards!" Mary yelled, and Catherine flinched.

"Oh come now, Mary, does it really need to come to all this?" Catherine sighed dramatically. Mary refused to answer, planning to arrest her, truly, for treason if she did recant.

"Queen Mary." Two guards bowed as they entered the cell, and Mary could feel Catherine bristling in contempt. Mary turned to the guards, ready to have them lock Catherine away completely.

"I believe, Your Majesty, that there has been a great misunderstanding." Catherine started, and Mary relished the feeling of triumph. She had had few opportunities to triumph over Catherine, and she enjoyed every minute of it.

Mary excused the guards, swiveling to face Catherine once more. The women stared at each other, and Mary could not help but smile smugly at Catherine. Though Mary knew she should be frightened of Catherine's accusation, knowing if she saw the similarity others might as well, but instead, she felt a sense of calm. There was no proof, other than a striking personal resemblance, to suggest anything undo. A resemblance, thankfully, that could be explained away by the fact they were brothers.

"Thank you, Catherine, for realizing your error. I am sure you can rest easy now knowing your head will stay attached to your shoulders." Mary grinned, ready to be rid of the dungeon and of Catherine. Even the few minutes spent in her presence could damper anyone's spirits.

"Just know child, I still have friends in the castle. You cannot protect yourself, or your beloved Sebastian forever." Catherine threatened. Alerted, Mary's sharp glare turned back to her mother-in-law.

"It would behoove you to remember I am your Queen, and my word outweighs yours now." Mary paused, gathering her strength to lie as convincingly as she could. "And know this, I do all of this for my son, and your son. I have a friend in Sebastian, and that is all. I am sorry you are so blinded by your hatred that you cannot see it."

"You have become so dark, Mary. It is so sad to see this from the bright cheerful child I once knew."

Mary could not bring herself to continue the banter with Catherine. She was emotionally exhausted. Without a further word, Mary left the dingy cell, leaving Catherine to the cold and damp of the dungeon. Lola, who had waited outside for Mary, followed her anxiously.

"Mary, how did it go? I could hear a few words, and then you called for the guards?" Lola asked, genuinely concerned.

"I am fine, thank you. Catherine was being _Catherine._ " Mary cringed, thinking back to the evil glint in her mother-in-law's eyes. "I think I will rest for the afternoon. I have much to think on."

Lola nodded, curtseying and heading back in the direction of Nostradamus' room. More than ever she now needed rest, and comfort. But first, she needed to speak to the guards again.

"Your Grace." They bowed, as much as their uniforms allowed.

"I am in need of your service." She paused, knowing the controversy her actions might stir. "No one is to be allowed in to Catherine's cell, no matter what they might offer. She is to be afforded no additional luxuries, or else you will lose yours." They nodded in understanding, muttering words of understanding.

Mary started to turn, but decided to add a few words before she left. "It would be in your best interest to lost the key."

* * *

Sebastian waited patiently in Mary's chambers, his heart pacing with the prospect of Mary and his son being along with Catherine. He wished he could have accompanied her, but she adamantly refused. He knew it was for the best, but he still worried. He paced her chambers, counting the steps from one end to the other, and then counted the width. He sat in every chair in the room, never finding one comfortable enough to relax. To say he waited patiently was actually far from the truth.

He jumped to his feet when the chamber door opened. He opened his mouth to speak, but Mary immediately shushed him, pointing to James who was fast asleep. She swept quietly across the room, placing their son in his cradle. Assuring he was still asleep, Mary tugged at his hand and pulled him toward the balcony. They kept their distance, with members of court walking around and enjoying the pleasant afternoon weather. She wanted nothing more than to pull him close, let the anguish and torment of meeting with Catherine blow away into the wind.

"How did it go?" He whispered, anxiety written on his words.

"How does it ever go with Catherine? She is a venomous snake." Mary hissed. "She took one look at James and declared him illegitimate. I had to threaten her with treason."

"Has she told anyone else of her suspicions?" Sebastian asked quietly, his hand itching to reach for Mary's.

"No, at least I do not think so." Mary took up Bash's abandoned pacing, outlining the small balcony in a few strides. "Still, I cannot take her for granted. I ordered the guards to restrict access to her completely."

"As it should have been the first time." Sebastian acknowledged.

"Yes, I realize that now. Be that as it may, she is now no better than any other criminal in the tower. I do not foresee her leaving her confines until she is carried out in a wooden box."

Mary realized Catherine was right. Her heart had darkened, but only in one way. She would refuse to let anyone, no matter who, destroy her family.

"You act as though you personally signed her death sentence." Sebastian whispered, partially in awe at the power exuded by the woman in front of him.

"I did, more or less. I told the guards to throw away her key."

They held each others' gaze, eyes unblinking. Words passed between through their locked focus, a few years of heartache, anger, passion, worry, and love all poured into one look. Catherine had threatened everyone in their family at point or another, and knowing they had now done everything in their power to crumble the temptress from her throne was a relief.

"And Nostradamus will not betray us? He has been her confidante for years." If Sebastian was anything, he was ever diligent. Mary had not thought about Nostradamus betraying them, but she knew he would not.

"No, he would not betray Lola." A small cry erupted room the room, and both parents turned immediately towards their son. Bash held a halting hand out toward Mary as she moved instinctively.

"Let me, Mary. I have barely seen him the last few days." Mary nodded, smiling sadly at his words. He wanted to be in his child's life as much as possible given the circumstances, and Mary wanted it as well. She watched admiringly as he gently lifted his son into his arms, talking softly to the child as he walked. Remembering the almost wild man she met when she first arrived, it was astonishing to see his transformation. It was not so much how much he changed, but really an awakening from within himself, showing the man Mary knew was always there.

"Your Grace, King Francis." The attendant at the door announced before Mary or Sebastian had time to react. It was an unusual time for Francis to visit, and Mary was taken completely unawares. She noticed Sebastian out of the corner of her eye as he stiffened, but made no move to lay James down.

Francis paused, eyes passing between Mary, who smiled sweetly at her husband, and Sebastian, who was acting as if he did not know Francis was there, murmuring gently to James.

"This is an interesting sight." Francis commented as Mary moved to his side, strategically lacing her arms through his. It hurt her to do so in front of Bash, but this game of charades had to be played.

"Yes, Francis. Your brother wanted to see his nephew. It is a nice gesture, is it not?" Mary knew the dangerous game she was playing, but played her part well.

"Why yes, of course, very good of you brother." Francis acknowledged weakly, his physical condition not having improved over the past few weeks. If anything, he appeared weaker. Mary guided him to her larger chair, where he sat gingerly. He made a motion to Sebastian, which he interpreted as a want to hold _his_ son. He barely glanced at Mary, unsure if it was safe, seeing Francis' state, but she nodded minutely.

Though he looked on James differently than Sebastian, it was with no less love. Even Sebastian could see the love of a father in his brother's eyes.

"Mary, about the Christening..." Francis began, pausing to cough, a deep, rumbling sound emerging from within his chest.

"I have it all taken care of Francis. It will be beautiful." She placed a hand on his shoulder, and he patted it softly. "Would you like some wine?"

"No, Mary, thank you. I should go lie down. I had just wanted to check on James' Christening plans. I am sorry I have not been more help." His words were barely audible, as if whispered, but he was not trying to hush his words. The walk to Mary's chambers, and subsequent talking, was taking a toll on his sickened body.

"Do not trouble yourself, Francis. You are under strict orders to rest, and that is what I want you to do." Mary reached for James, fast asleep in Francis' lap.

"Here, brother, let me help you back to your chambers." Sebastian offered, and Francis accepted eagerly. Sebastian did not look back as he guided Francis out the door, but Mary knew it pained him as much as her to see Francis in such a state. He was a vibrant, beautiful man once. Now, the illness plaguing his body would not relent, and it was painfully obvious when watching him.

She held James, still fast asleep, closely to her chest. It was hard to watch their retreating figures, the older brother supporting the younger. From looking at them side-by-side, it would be difficult to fathom that Francis was indeed younger. There were shadows under his eyes, and he had lost weight. His hair had lost it's luster, and his skin it's shine. It had been a horrible deterioration in little over a month, ever since James' birth. She kept telling herself he would be okay, in time. He had to be.

He was King.

She did not want James to be King so young, not like she had been named Queen at a mere six days old. It would break her heart.

And her heart was broken enough.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes! I do greatly apologize for the delay in updating! We have one chapter left after this, and I won't leave you all hanging, I promise! Thank you so much for your continued support and reviews! You all are amazing readers and friends!
> 
> Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More. And I promised I wouldn't start my new multi-chapter fic until I finished this one, but alas, I did. Check out 'A Lady in His Shield' when you get a chance!
> 
> Chapter 24 Music: Sukiyaki by Kyu Sakamoto
> 
> Ue o muite anikou / I look up as I walk
> 
> Namida ga kobore naiyouni / So that the tears won't fall
> 
> Omoidasu harunohi / Remembering those spring day
> 
> Hitoribotchi no yoru / But I am all alone tonight
> 
> Ue o muite anikou / I look up as I walk
> 
> Nijinda hosi o kazoete / Counting the stars with tearful eyes
> 
> Omoidasu harunohi / Remembering those spring days
> 
> Hitoribotchi no yoru / But I am all alone tonight

She felt the stiff fabric of her traveling cloak as she laid it gently over the lounge chair. Marie surveyed the guest room around her, having become familiar with it all after her few months stay in the castle. She missed her Scotland and the sense of normalcy it provided, but nothing could have kept her from her daughter or grandson.

It was a fateful decision, Marie thought, for Mary to have sent Sebastian to Scotland. So much had happened between then and now. James' Christening would be the following day, and Marie was unsure whether the King himself would be there. His health had declined rapidly over the short time she had been in France, and tensions around the castle were palpable because of it. It grieved her to think of the violent world her grandson might be tossed into before he could even speak. She had felt it for Mary, having been crowned Queen at six days old. You were marked from then on to the life of royalty: intrigue, deception, and many more disgraceful things. She wished for different circumstances for her grandson. And for her own daughter who would thrust into the middle of the melee. Marie feared rough and dangerous times might be ahead, despite any preparation that would be made. But if anyone could handle these treacherous times, it would be Mary.

Marie had spent several hours the previous day in worship, her knees still sore from the rough stone floor within the chapel. She wanted the best for her grandson, just as she had wanted for her own daughter. And if King Francis were to succumb to his illness, may God keep it from being so, let little James be raised in Scotland, away from the vileness of the French court. Let him be raised by his mother.

And Sebastian.

Marie should have been upset with her daughter over her reckless actions, but she was not. Her daughter was still young enough to believe most husbands were faithful to their wives, least of all Kings. Her own husband, though he had loved her, still had his liaisons during their marriage. And so had Francis. Though her daughter had been prepared to rule, she had never fully been prepared for love. Or for the love that was expected of her.

And Mary? Mary did what came naturally to her. She sought love and affection, and gave it just as willingly in return. But not to just anyone. She gave her love to someone who cherished her, who loved her with every ounce of her being, a man who loved a woman, not a Queen.

It was for those reasons Marie could ever be upset at her daughter's actions, for a love such as she saw between Sebastian and Mary was a rare jewel, ought to be treasured, coveted even, but never lost. This love would survive all that might be thrown at Mary over the tumultuous time to come. It had proven already it could survive death, even if only a faked one.

Sighing, Marie scanned the room one more time, noting there was not much left to be packed before her departure. Resigned to having done her best, Marie left the room.. She wanted a few more minutes with her grandson, alone, before his Christening.

And she needed to impart a few words of wisdom to her beloved daughter.

* * *

Mary paced uneasily around the King's library. Lola had sent a message that Nostradamus wanted a private word, and Mary knew he would bring bad tidings. Lola's message had left an ominous feeling deep within Mary, even though her words had been few. The knock on the door startled Mary from her worried thoughts. Nostradamus had appeared, right on time, his shoulders hunched with the weight of his news. Neither spoke for a few minutes, Nostradamus' eyes conveying more than his mouth every could. The following seconds passed by in slow motion. Mary saw his mouth open, sounds falling forth like a waterfall. Her vision blurred as the meaning of his words took hold.

_He is dying._

Nostradamus' words echoed in Mary's mind. Her feet had faltered at the sound, causing her to stumble into the adjacent chair, hands gripping the armrest until her knuckles were white.

_Dying._

Francis was dying. He may last a year at most, Nostradamus had thought, but his body was slowly succumbing to the darkness invading it. The headaches were steadily becoming worse, now affecting his vision. In essence, his body was shutting down, a little at a time. There was a darkness in his blood, an infection Nostradamus had called it, that he could not cure. Francis would continue to deteriorate, delusions and hallucinations possible as the infection moved to his mind as well.

"I am sorry to bear such ill news, my Queen," Nostradamus had sadly noted, seeing the shock and sadness in Mary's face.

If Mary had been honest with herself, she would have acknowledged she knew of Francis' condition before Nostradamus had spoken a word. It was dire, she knew without a doubt. His pale complexion and the shadows under his eyes were just a few tell-tale signs of his bodily weakness. The image that was burned into her memory was of Sebastian, arms wrapped protectively around his younger brother as Bash had slowly led Francis back to his room. The once vibrant King whom she had fallen in love with was wasting away before her eyes. She had already accepted that fate was cruel, but pulling Francis away from France at a time when they needed a true King was truly harrowing.

In the midst of her musings, Nostradamus had quietly slipped away. Mary was alone, the steady whoosh of her breath her only companion. If what Nostradamus said was true, and in Mary's heart she knew it was, she would need a plan for James. Would she stay in France as Regent for her son, much as her own mother had done? Or would she return to her own beloved country, raising her son to be a fit for the role of Kingship?

She felt the tears moisten her cheeks. These were not all tears of sadness. These were also tears of fear. Mary was frightened, she was frightened for her future, and Sebastian's. She was frightened for France's future, but most importantly, she was frightened for her son.

James.

The future King of France. And Scotland. And who knew, maybe even England.

* * *

Mary drummed her fingers absently against Sebastian's chest. The remaining light from the chamber candles cast a eerie glow around her chambers, bouncing soundlessly off the stone walls. Mary's tears had dried hours ago, but the pain still ran deep. She still held love in her heart for Francis, even if it was not the love of a wife, or even lover. Thinking of his imminent death stirred a deep ache within Mary. So many things had happened in her short time at French court, many things that no one should have to endure in their lifetime, let along before they were twenty.

They laid there in silence for some time. Earlier, Mary had met her mother briefly after talking to Nostradamus, needing her mother's advice now more than ever. What should she do? What was best for her, James, and for Scotland? Her mother was patient and kind, and helped Mary to realize she had the answers within if she would only trust herself.

Talking with her mother calmed her mind a bit, enough for her to know what she really needed now was Sebastian. He needed to know of his brother's condition, and she wanted his guidance. Just as she had read Nostradamus' face, Sebastian had read hers. They cried together, holding on tightly to each others shaking forms. Seeing Sebastian cry tugged at Mary's heart. The pain was different for him, having spent the majority of his life by his brother's side. He was older, though not by much, and thus the boys had spent many an hour in each others company, being the mischievous boys they were. They should have grown old together, Mary thought, and honestly, it should be the elder passing before the younger, even if it pained Mary to think so. Even though Francis had caused Mary pain in their marriage, Sebastian stilled loved him as a brother. He could not love the mistakes he had made, but he could love the brother he remembered.

Mary's fingers resumed their movement, this time stroking Sebastian's chest gently. They were both tense, knowing the immediate future was so uncertain. The only thing certain was their reliance on the other, and their commitment to providing the best for their son.

"I will miss him." Sebastian said quietly, being the first to break their long silence.

"I will too, you know, I was his wife." Mary replied darkly, the use of past tense did not go unnoticed.

"You _are_ his wife, by law and the Church. And you will be his widow, Queen Mother to the next King." Mary sighed against his chest, not wanting to hear the words. Her mother had spoke them earlier, and hearing them again was not any easier.

"What did your mother say?" Sebastian whispered into her hair, his hand idly fingering her dark curls.

"She wants me to bring James back to Scotland, raise him there away from the French court." Mary's fingers stilled against Sebastian chest, now absorbing the warmth his bare skin provided.

"What do you want to do?" Sebastian asked gently, placing his lips against her forehead sweetly. "I will go where you go, just tell me where."

Mary chuckled. "My mother said you would say those exact words."

"Your mother is a smart woman." Sebastian laughed in return, his face turning more somber quickly. "Mary, what you are thinking?"

Mary lifted her head from his chest, her eyes holding his steady. Whatever path she chose, she was choosing for three, and not just one. It was a decision she would need to think on, sleep on, and not make any rash choice. But she would have to decide sooner rather than later.

"My mother wants a better life for James than I had. I was thrust into power as an infant, and my life was never my own." Mary paused, watching for any reaction from Sebastian. "She would like us to come to Scotland, all of us."

There was a hint of a smile on Bash's face. His time in Scotland, though he was in disguise and on the run, was pleasant. He could envision himself living there.

"If that is what you want, I will not object. I quite liked Scotland." He smiled genuinely this time, trying to lighten the somber atmosphere.

"Would you not miss France? It is your home." Mary probed, afraid his love of her would cause him the further ache of leaving his homeland.

"I am home when I am with you, and James. No country could outweigh that." He replied earnestly, turning to gaze upon her upturned face. It was strange to Mary, thinking of how she had envisioned moments like this as a child, but the man across of her being Francis. Now, even if his health was not in question, she could not see Francis in that position again. Sebastian consumed her mind, body and soul, and she could not imagine it any other way.

She may have broken her vows to Francis, but was it really anything more than a treaty on paper? Anymore, Mary did not know.

"How can you love this broken soul, Sebastian?" The words ghosted over Mary's tongue, her lips moving gently against his shoulder where her head rested. She focused on her hand as it moved gently with each breath he took, waiting patiently for Sebastian's response.

"Because you saved me from losing mine."

* * *

The chapel walls were draped in gold and purple silk, perfectly regal shades for the Dauphin's Christening. Mary was profuse in her compliments to Greer and Aylee who had taken the lead on decorating the chapel. It was stunningly beautiful.

James slept soundly in Mary's arms as she waited patiently in the hall. She fingered the white lace of her own Christening gown delicately gracing James' tiny figure. She was thankful her mother had cared enough to bring it on her travels across the channel. Having survived the many years and various trips, Mary hoped it carried good luck in the woven threads that decorated the garment.

Many of the French nobles had already taken their seats within the glistening chapel, the candles adorning the outer walls reflecting the royal colors within. A few stragglers slowly made their way towards the room, acknowledging their Queen and Dauphin as they passed.

Mary heard the struggling footsteps behind her, the shuffle of his boots against the rough stone a soft scraping to her ears. The elder gently and discreetly supported the younger, brothers in more than just name. Though Mary had visited Francis almost every day, bringing James to see him, he appeared utterly changed from the previous day. It was a struggle for him to walk, his feet barely lifting off the ground. His breathing was labored, a strange whistling sound echoing with each breath. His complexion had been pale ever since that night they found him alone and unconscious in the rain, but today it took on a sickly yellow color.

Mary felt the panic bubble up inside her, now fearing Nostradamus' assessment of a year might have been too optimistic. Her eyes met Sebastian's, his emotions indicating he felt the same fear she did. She spoke quietly to Francis, a smile lighting his face when he looked at James. The music sounded, indicating the start of the Christening processional. Sebastian stood firmly by Francis' side as he walked slowly down the chapel aisle. Mary could hear the whispers from the nobles, many having not seen Francis in sometime.

_Please let this go well,_ Mary prayed. She caught her mother's eye as the neared the altar, and Marie smiled sadly. As Priest began chanting, Mary could do nothing but pray. The next few minutes were a blur, the priests words floating incoherently around her. When it was time to anoint James, he squealed at the touch of water on his head, but quieted as Mary brought him close to her again. The nobles smiled at their young Dauphin, smiling at their Queen in turn.

Mary looked to her left as her eyes caught a sudden motion, realizing Sebastian was trying to keep Francis from falling. His eyes had drifted closed and Sebastian struggled to keep him upright, his knees buckling under the weight of his unconscious limbs. _What is happening?_ Mary thought.

Mary did not have a chance to speak before her mother calming announced the King was unwell, sending Lola rushing out of the chapel, presumably for Nostradamus.

"Come, Mary, we need to take him to Nostradamus." Marie urged, but Mary heard not her mother's words. Her blood pulsed in her ears, her vision blurring. Her worst fears were coming to light, much sooner than even she expected. She felt the tug on her arm, her mother trying to lead her out of the chapel. She gripped James closer, her feet unwillingly shuffling along.

"Be strong, my daughter, you must be strong. They will all look to you now."

And of that Mary was most fearful.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is bittersweet for me. I can't believe my story has come to an end. I want to thank all of my readers and reviewers for making this journey with me! It's been a learning process, and I've enjoyed every minute. I'm still working on 'A Lady in His Shield', so feel free to continue on the next journey with me there!
> 
> Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More.
> 
> Chapter 25 Music: Heavy in Your Arms by Florence + the Machine
> 
> I was a heavy heart to carry / My beloved was weighed down  
> My arms around his neck / My fingers laced to crown
> 
> I'm so heavy, heavy / Heavy in your arms

The darkened room did little to lift the curtain of despair that had closed over Mary's heart. She sat vigil by Francis's bedside, maintaining a tight grip on his clammy hand. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, but Mary was unsure how much of that was due to his fever, or the blaze being stoked in the fireplace. He tossed weakly about in the bed, tormented by the illness that flowed in his veins. Though so many things had changed over the past year, Mary would never wish Francis to be in such a state. She still loved the boy within, now barely visible under the yellowing, translucent skin. His vices had pulled him under, pulled him away from her, but the it was the illness that was decimating his body. She tried to remember him as he once was, the happy boy she had loved and cherished.

Gently, she rested her cheek against the hand she held tightly. She knew his time on Earth was coming to an end, the knowing look she received from Nostradamus had told her as much. Though their marriage had been far from ideal, France still needed it's King. And she was still his wife, if in name only.

Mary felt a hand on her shoulder, applying the gentlest of pressure. With a sad smile, she turned her eyes on Sebastian. She could see the redness in his eyes, fighting back his own emotions in the moment. France was losing a King, Mary was losing her husband, and Bash was losing a brother.

"I dislike mentioning it, Mary, but should Catherine be summoned? I fear his time is shorter than we would like to think," he whispered gently. Mary's sniffle came out as more of a gasping breath, but she nodded.

"Yes, of course. I can look beyond her past transgressions to give her a moment with her son," she acknowledged, knowing that should she ever be in a similar situation, she would bless the person who granted her the same courtesy.

He reached a hand to stroke her cheek, his thumb erasing the tear tracks that stained the flesh of her face, "you are so strong, Mary. Please never be afraid to show me your tears," Mary smiled at Sebastian, feeling the comfort only his presence could bring. Bash nodded, his reassuring grip relaxing from her shoulder as he left to summon Catherine.

"I know this is difficult, daughter, but be strong. James will need you," Marie reminded Mary from her seat in the corner. She held her sleeping grandson, having settled quietly in her chair in the corner after they rushed Francis to the room during the Christening. Marie moved slowly, placing James snugly in his bassinet which Bash had brought in earlier. She came to kneel by Mary, resting a hand gently on her daughter's knee.

"Much is about the change, Mary. Sebastian will need you more than ever, for the grief of losing a brother is a hard one to bear," Marie hesitated, watching her daughter's eyes glisten, "but most importantly, you will need a plan for yourself. James will be King of France. There is much to think about."

Mary knew her mother's words to be true. Would she stay in France and rule for James as Regent, much as her mother did in Scotland? Or would she take him to Scotland, and raise him with Sebastian at her side?

Part of Mary wanted to reprimand her mother for appearing careless and not allowing her time to grieve. But for a monarch, the time to grieve was best left to the darkness of night, wrapped in the warmth of a lover's arms when tears could flow freely. Unfortunately, the daylight was no time to grieve. Mary knew Sebastian's arms would be openly waiting, as would hers for him, but in the coming days, weeks, even months, the daylight would have to rule her emotions.

Looking back to Francis, he seemed to have calmed a bit, but his face was still pale and his breathing shallow. Marie moved back to check on James, and Mary tentatively reached to smooth the blonde curls from her husband's forehead. She had forgotten the feel of his skin under her fingers, but the texture was different than she remembered.

For a moment, his eyes fluttered open, catching Mary's eyes as she held her breath.

But the moment was shattered, as Mary heard Catherine clamoring down the hall. His eyes fluttered closed as the door opened slowly, thanks mostly to Sebastian who had a firm grip on the door handle. Catherine hurriedly entered in a flurry of rustling skirts and waving arms. She had lost some since of decorum in her motions, but to Mary's surprise she refrained from raising her voice. Her eyes met Mary's briefly, then shifted to chair Mary was occupying. Understanding the request, Mary stood, allowing Catherine to sit by her son's side. Mary drifted to the end of the bed, letting her weight rest softly against the feathered mattress. She felt heavy, so heavy with the burdens now upon her shoulders.

Catherine's weathered hand grasped her son's tightly. She brought it towards her face, her lips moving in a silent prayer. Mary watched thoughtfully at the woman before, the same woman who caused her so much pain, torment, and nearly cost her Sebastian's life. But before her now was not the Queen, but a mother who, too, was grieving for a son whose life dangled precariously from the edge of living. She kissed the hand she held, reaching to brush his forehead with the other. Though they had their own quarrels, the creases in his brow softened with his mother's touch.

They all either sat or stood in silence for some time, James occasional coos the only sound in the room.

"Why is Nostradamus not here?" Catherine asked softly, her question directed to the room at whole. Sebastian stepped forward to fill the void of silence.

"He should be back shortly. Lola was assisting him on making a tea to ease his breathing," he answered, tilting his head toward Francis. Catherine returned her gaze to Francis, though here eyes had never reached Sebastian's, her own silent way of showing her distaste for him. Bash politely nodded, bowing his head slightly.

"I want to blame all of this on you, Mary, but I realize I am partly at fault," Catherine spoke suddenly. Her voice held no condemnation but was spoken as one would almost praise a child, "but know this Mary, even if I am locked away in the tower for the rest of my life, nothing you could do would _ever_ gain my forgiveness."

Mary bristled, wanting to lash out at Catherine. Who was she to speak of forgiveness? _She_ was the same woman who drugged Mary and Francis, Sebastian and Lola, setting a course of events that would change everything. _She_ was the same woman who attempted to have Sebastian brutally murdered. _No_ , thought Mary, _I will never be concerned with gaining her forgiveness_.

"I care not for your forgiveness, Catherine," Mary whispered, the power of her words resonating around the room, "and it should be you who is begging for _my_ forgiveness. Your sins are too many to count," she paused, knowing every eye in the room was on her, "and I hope you drown in them."

Catherine's lips puckered, distaste written clearly across her features. She opened her mouth, an angry retort ready on her lips, but Mary spoke first, "and because of that Catherine, you will accompany me to Scotland in the coming days, where I can keep a watchful eye on you."

"Already written Francis off, have you? Eager to be with you lover? Make more bastard children?" Catherine stood as she spoke, her voice still quiet but anger dripped from every word.

"Of course not, Catherine, for I love Francis dearly, but as a Queen yourself you should know I have to think of my son, the future _King_ of France, and my own blessed country," Mary felt the weight of her burdens lift slightly with the sudden decision to return home. She would go to Scotland, with Sebastian, James, and Catherine, her prisoner forever.

Mary could feel the pride from the smile her mother gave her, knowing she had made the right decision. She need not look at Sebastian for his love to impress upon her. Catherine would never accept defeat, and Mary knew she would be fighting her discreetly until Catherine no longer took breathe.

"And who will rule France in your stead? You cannot be Regent from Scotland," asked Catherine calmly, though Mary could see her hands clinched in fists. She had not thought this far ahead, but knew there were some very capable men on the King's Council.

"You need not worry about France, Catherine, for I will always have it's best interest at heart," Mary replied sweetly, and Catherine sneered in response. "What will become of my other children if I am in Scotland?"

"They are Francis's brothers," Mary answered, sincerity in her tone, "and I will make sure they have every luxury that can be afforded to them."

Catherine remained silent, contemplating Mary's words. She did not even look up when Nostradamus quietly knocked, handing a steaming cup of tea to Sebastian. Silence continued for awhile, Mary shifting uneasily from foot to foot, her thoughts drifting between returning home to Scotland, Francis passing away, and raising her son with Sebastian.

Soft sounds from the bed caused everyone's heads to turn toward him. Francis's eyes were open, barely, and his hand twitched outward.

"Francis?!" Catherine called, rushing back to the chair and reaching for her son's outstretched hand. He smiled weakly, his grip nonexistent as she grasped his hand.

"Mother," he started, his voice raspy from disuse.

"Here is some tea, Francis, it will help sooth your throat," Catherine urged, reaching over to raise her son's head and help him drink the warm brew Nostradamus recently brought. He coughed slightly, but his body relaxed briefly with the warm liquid. "You must rest my son," Catherine urged, a motherly demeanor overtaking her person once more.

Mary drifted away from the bed to sit by her mother. She gazed down at James, sleeping peacefully, unaware of the constant turmoil that surrounded him. Even during slumber, his little face smiled her direction.

"Mary?" A strained voice from the bed spoke. Mary stood immediately, moving to stand by Catherine.

"Yes, Francis?" He smiled at her, but his normal vibrancy and enthusiasm was gone from his face.

"I would like to speak with you privately, for a moment?" Catherine moved to dissent, but Mary placed a firm hand on her shoulder.

"Would you please excuse us?" Mary asked, glancing at Catherine, then around the Marie and finally to Sebastian. She saw sadness in her mother's eyes, but only understanding in Sebastian's. Marie moved to pick up James, but Francis spoke quietly, "please, let my son stay. I wish to see him."

"As you wish, Your Grace," Marie bowed, gliding out of the room behind a very reluctant Catherine.

"Please, can you - bring James - closer?" Francis stuttered, the words becoming hard for him to speak. It was if every last ounce of strength in his body went towards forming the sounds. Mary moved quickly, a dreadful sense of calm filling her body. James remained asleep, even as Mary scooted the chair as close to the bed as possible. Nostradamus concluded Francis was not contagious, that his illness remained confined to only his own extremities, so Mary felt no fear in resting the sleeping infant beside Francis. It was a struggle, but he drug his hand over to James, resting it gently on his stomach. "So - beautiful," he uttered weakly.

The scene before her brought tears to her eyes, but not for the reason she thought it might. Part of her would always regret lying to Francis about James, and she knew she would answer for this sin before her God.

"Francis ..." Mary started, unsure where her thoughts or words were taking her.

"Mary," he paused, taking a shakingly deep breath, "I have known for some time," he struggled, his breathing becoming more awkward, "not my son." The words in between had been lost with his shaky breaths, but Mary understood what he was saying. James was not his son.

"Francis ..." Mary started again, but Francis slightly raised a finger in protest.

"I have not been," he stopped to breath, closing his eyes, "the husband," another pause, "you deserve."

"Francis, please do not exert yourself. You need your strength to get better," whispered Mary, reaching out to caress his cheek.

"Tell Bash to take care of his son," muttered Francis, the words clearer than any other he had spoken, and Mary gasped, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Her chest heaved with emotion, and her mind raced. What do you say to your dying husband?

"Can you forgive me, Francis? I do love him so," Mary cried, laying her head against the silken sheets.

"Easily, Mary," breathed Francis, the words flowing easier from his lips. Mary hoped the tea was beginning to help. "I was not the husband I should have been," he paused momentarily, eyes glancing back at James, "but it does not help the hurt, knowing he is not my legacy. I will not judge you, for God knows my sins as well, as He does yours."

"He will be King of France, Francis, and I want you to teach him as he grows, just as I will do," stated Mary, knowing Francis would never see James grow up. She did not want to acknowledge that reality yet.

"Always optimistic, my Mary," Francis chuckled, a harrowing cough emanating from his chest, "every time I close my eyes I do not know if they will open again on this Earth."

"Save your breath, Francis," whispered Mary, bending over the kiss his forehead, "I do love you, you know." And she did, but not in the same fashion she loved Sebastian. If things had been different, she might be expressing a very different sentiment when saying 'I love you', but she would not wish things to be different. Though she regretted the situation, she never regretted the path it led her on, or the choices she made. She loved Sebastian, and he was her rock. Without his love, she would never have had her beautiful son.

Francis had gone quiet after muttering an 'I love you too Mary', his strength exerted for the time being. She thought she even heard an 'I am sorry' muffled as well, but she paid it no heed. They said what needed to be said to each other, though Mary hoped it would not be the last time they spoke.

Glancing back, Mary noticed his hand on James had slipped down, and she reached to touch his hand but stopped. She watched his face, eyes roaming to his chest and back. There was no visible movement.

"Francis?" Mary whispered, gently touching his hand. There was no response.

"Francis?" Mary asked more forcefully, panic beginning to surface in her voice. There was still no response.

What happened next, Mary was not sure. She must have called for Sebastian, for he was suddenly by her side, James cradled in one arm and the other firmly wrapped around Mary's shoulders. She heard Catherine's anguished cries, the cries of a mother who lost her child. Her mother whispered words that Mary did not comprehend, a muffled sound blanketing her ears.

And somewhere, off in the distance, she thought she heard a bell toll.

* * *

It had been two years since Francis had passed away, a year and a half since Mary had returned to Scotland. Times had been difficult, trying to remember a country she had barely lived in. It had taken awhile for her advisers to trust her, a French woman in their eyes, but her mannerisms and friendliness had worked in her favor, and she easily gained their trust.

The shade of the willow tree provided some respite from the afternoon sun, though the heat was not overwhelming. The blue sky held few clouds, creating the perfect atmosphere for an afternoon outing. Mary had been in meetings with her advisers during the morning hours, and the fresh air had been a welcome change.

Her fingers tickled the blades of grass at the edge of the blanket, the fabric providing a soft cushion to the rocky soil. The sun reflected of the ripples of the Loch beyond Linlithgow castle. The wind carried the waves, along with the giggles of her son, rolling around happily in the grass. His curls, now dark brown like hers, bounced as he moved. Sebastian called cheerily after him, now getting to live in the complete roll of father.

She gazed lovingly at the man before her, now chasing James through the bluebells. He could never be her King, and he accepted that fact easily. Likewise, he could not be her husband, a fact made perfectly clear by her advisers. However, her nobles agreed to not push Mary towards a marriage out of duty. They would accept their Queen as she was, with a strong man at her side, loyal to her to a fault. In some ways, they viewed her just as the English viewed Elizabeth. She was a strong, personable, respectable Queen. She could rule Scotland with a strong, just hand, without a King Consort.

And likewise, she could love where she wanted.

And she knew she had placed her love in the right place. He glanced over at her, walking slowly towards Mary and stretching out a hand to help her stand. He pulled her close to his side, her head resting gently on his shoulder.

"It was a summer, much like this, when we took that first ride through palace grounds together," he whispered, reminiscing on those first few months of their budding relationship.

"We were together through summer, fall, and most of winter before you had to disappear," Mary stated, remembering those horrible moments thinking Bash was truly dead, "and then I finally got a have a spring with you."

"We have been through a lot, you and I," added Bash, placing a gently kiss on the top of her head, "both good times and bad."

"My man for all seasons," Mary breathed, closing her eyes and breathing in the scent of fresh air, Sebastian, and freedom. Under her head, Mary felt Bash's chest rumbled as he laughed, a genuine mirthful sound. This time he turned to face her, capturing her lips sweetly with his in way only he could do.

"I love you, Mary," muttered Sebastian, the words full of emotion.

"And I you," replied Mary, stroking his cheek, "now go chase down that wild son of yours."

Laughter filled the air as they both laughed, turning around to find their son. James was happily picking bluebells, his tiny fist crushing the flowers.

"James!" Called Bash, opening his arms wide. The boy quickly forgot his flowers, running happily into this father's arms. The movement of the golden flag above their heads caught Mary's attention, the red dragon rippling in the breeze from the loch.

This was her joy. This was her life. This was her family. And this was her Scotland.

* * *

And back in France, with Lola curled into his side, Nostradamus smiled.


End file.
